UC-NRLF 


• 


e 


THE 


A  ROMANCE  OF  ANCIENT  PERSIA. 


BY  AUSTIN  C.  BUEDICK. 

/  UN!'-/.      '•.'•' 


NEW  YORK: 

PUBLISHED    BY   SAMUEL    FRENCH, 

121  NASSAU  STREET. 


CHAPTER  I. 


A  STKANGE    CAPTURE. 


AMONG  all  the  cities  of  old,  the  ruins  of  which 
are  now  left  to  tell  of  the  mighty  age  that  has 
long  since  passed  away,  none  exceeded  in  ex 
tent,  in  wealth,  or  in  grandeur,  Persepolis,  the 
chief  capital  of  ancient  Persia.  At  the  foot  of  a 
siteep,  rugged  mountain,  was  extended  a  wide 
plain,  watered  by  a  goodly  river.  Upon  all 
hands  this  plain  was  shut  in  by  high  cliffs  of 
rock,  looming  darkly  in  the  distance,  leaving  the 
level  space  some  five-and- twenty  miles  in  length, 
and  upon  this  was  the  city  built,  occupying  the 
whole  vast  area.  The  wealth  of  the  royal  pal 
ace  almost  exceeds  belief.  It  was  a  vast  struc 
ture,  serving  not  only  for  the  royal  residence, 
but  also  for  a  citadel  and  bulwark.  Its  colon 
nade  of  massive  pillars  still  stands,  and  is  a  fit 
object  of  wonder.  These  pillars  are  of  gray 
marble  and  seventy  feet  high,  and  their  capitals, 
which  are  of  an  order  of  architecture  differing 
from  any  other  then  in  use,  are  beautiful  in  the 
extreme.  The  interior  of  this  kingly  abode  was 
literally  cased  with  gold  and  precious  stones, 
and  to  count  or  estimate  the  wealth  there  dis 
played,  were  a  task  beyond  the  ability  of  one 
man.  And  then  other  evidences  of  grandeur 
were  built  in  the  city,  and  upon  all  hands  were 
to  be  seen  sculptures  and  towers,  and  courts  and 
monuments.  And  as  though  the  vast  plain 
gave  not  room  enough  for  the  ingenuity  of  the 
sculptors,  the  faces  of  the  very  rocks  that 


formed  the  cliff  wall  of  the  city  were  cut  and 
carved  in  a  most  elaborate  and  flais'Md  manner. 
Into  the  ^acos  cf  the  l?rger  rocks  were  cut 
tombs  and  sepulchral  chambers,  with  beautiful 
portico'*  richly  sculptured  iran.  tkf-  <?olid  cliff. 

Truly  the  kmg'of  Persia  had  wealth,  for  his 
capital  contained  within  itself  the  wealth  of  a 
nation.  And  he  had  power,  for  thousands  on 
thousands  bowed  down  to  do  him  homage,  and 
princes  and  potentates  acknowledged  his  au 
thority. 

Next  in  importance  among  the  palaces  of 
Persepolis  to  that  of  the  king  was  the  palace 
of  Rustem,  one  of  the  most  powerful  satraps, 
or  governors,  of  the  realm.  Rustem  was  now 
past  the  meridian  of  life,  but  still  strong  and 
vigorous,  and  fond  of  all  those  manly  sports 
which  were  the  delight  of  the  warrior  race  of 
that  period.  He  was  a  favorite  of  the  king,  a 
friend  to  those  who  bowed  to  him,  and  some 
times  generous  and  benevolent  to  the  poor, 
lie  could  be  warm  and  ardent  in  his  attach 
ments,  and  he  could  love  with  his  whole  heart ; 
but  there  was  no  principle,  no  moral  obligation, 
felt  by  him.  He  was  the  slave  of  impulse,  and 
the  owner  of  a  will  that  would  not  bend.  Very 
slight  causes  would  attract  his  friendship,  and 
causes  just  as  slight  would  arouse  his  anger  and 
hate.  Above  all  things  else  did  he  love  to  be 
honored  and  obeyed  and  flattered.  Disobey 


965203 


8  THE  KING  AND 

•        , 

him,  and  he  was  your  enemy  ;  trample  upon  his 
authority,  and  his  hate  was  deadly.  Under 
such  circumstances  the  friendship  of  years  would 
be  cast  off  in  an  instant,  and  his  dagger  might 
seek  the  very  heart  he  had  hung  upon  in  love  for 
a  long,  long  while. 

Such  was  Rustem,  and  such  was  the  man 
upon  whom  the  king  relied  for  much  of  his 
power  and  advice.  Of  course  such  a  man  would 
have  many  friends  and  some  enemies  ;  he  would 
have  strong  friends  and  enemies  most  bitter. 
One  thing  alone  troubled  Rustem  exceedingly. 
He  had  yet  no  children.  He  had  married 
many  wives,  but  no  heir  came  yet  to  inherit  his 
title  and  his  wealth.  He  at  times  wished  that 
some  one  would  give  him  a  child,  for  he  felt 
that  there  was  a  very  large  space  in  his  heart  at 
present  unoccupied.  Perhaps  it  was  so,  for  the 
satrap  had  now  passed  over  thirty  years  of  ma 
turity  —  thirty  years  had  passed  away  since  he 
became  of  parental  age,  and  during  all  that 
time  he  had  prayed  for  a  child.  He  did  not 
know  that  his  heart  was  already  filled  with  hate 
where  love  might  have  come  in  ;  he  imagined 
that  about  ^be  half  of  his  whole  heart  was  dying 
for  the  wantoif  pccupatJopI  aiul'jhjit  pceupation 
could  be  afforded  only*  by  the  presence  of  a  son. 
Thus  stop$  Rtf&<*rr£  tne'&ftrjip,  jan3  hfe*f$lt  that 
***  * 


had 


God  had  *g*iven*hinl  little 
given  him  no  child. 

It  was  a  morning  in  early  summer.  Rustem 
had  been  engaged  one  whole  month  in  business 
for  the  king,  and  now  he  was  determined  to  have 
some  recreation.  He  took  with  him  twenty  men 
in  all,  armed  with  axes,  spears,  javelins,  bows 
and  knives,  and  with  the  best  horses  the  king 
dom  could  afford,  he  set  out.  His  course  was 
to  the  northeast,  towards  the  Hetzendarra  Moun 
tains,  where  there  were  to  be  found  all  sorts  o1 
wild  game,  even  to  camels  and  buffaloes.  The 
first  night  Rustem  stopped  at  a  little  hamlet  a 
the  foot  of  the  mountains,  where  lived  some 
peasants  and  hunters,  having  ridden  over  fifty 
miles  from  the  great  city.  The  poor  people 
here  knew  him  well,  and  he  was  treated  with 
much  respect. 

In  the  evening,  after  wine  had  been  drank  am 
supper  eaten,  an  old  hunter  named  Bal,  who  hac 
ranged  over  the  mountains  many  years  in  search 
of  game,  made  a  movement  as  though  he  woulc 
speak  with  the  satrap. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Rustem,  who  noticed 
the  movement. 


COBBLER. 

"  I  wish  to  tell  your  excellency  of  a  most  cu 
rious  animal  that  dwells  among  the  mountains." 
"Ah,"  uttered  Rustem,  who  was    ever  on 
land  for  anything  curious  or  wonderful,  "  go  on 
and  tell  me,  good  Bal." 

It  is  a  most  curious  animal,  sir,  and  such  an 
one  as  I  never  saw  before.  I  first  saw  it  about 
hree  weeks  ago,  and  several  times  have  I  seen 
t  since  ;  but  I  cannot  get  near  it.  Once  I  was 
near  enough  to  throw  my  javelin.  I  threw  it 
with  all  my  might,  and  the  animal  caught  it  in 
lis  paws  and  broke  it  in  pieces.  Then  he  com 
menced  to  hurl  great  rocks  at  me,  and  I  was 
breed  to  retreat." 

But  how  does  this  animal  look1?"  asked 
Rustem,  who  had  become  much  interested. 

Why,  he  looks  something  like  a  huge  mon 
key.  He  runs  sometimes  on  all  fours,  but  he 
runs  the  fastest  when  erect.  But  the  most  cu 
rious  thing  is  that  he  is  always  with  a  flock  of 
wild  goats,  and  he  seems  bent  on  protecting 
these  goats  in  preference  to  himself." 

It  must  be  some  afrite  or  some  ghoul,"  said 
Rustem. 

"  So  I  have  thought,"  said  the  old  hunter, 
with  an  involuntary  shudder. 

"  And  yet  I  must  find  him,"  resumed  the  sa 
trap.  "  You  shall  go  with  me  to-morrow,  Bal, 
and  we  will  surround  and  capture  the  thing." 

This  was  agreed  to,  and  at  an  early  hour  the 
party  retired.  All  night  did  Rustem  either 
dream,  or  lie  awake  and  think,  of  the  strange 
animal  of  which  he  had  heard.  From  Bal's  de 
scription  he  thought  it  might  be  some  wicked 
afrite  or  genie  who  thus  wandered  among  the 
mountains,  and  he  debated  much  within  himself 
whether  it  would  be  safe  to  attack  such  a  power. 
But  he  had  said  that  he  would  hunt  for  it,  and 
he  wished  not  his  followers  to  think  him  coward 
ly  ;  and  besides,  his  curiosity  was  wonderfully 
excited,  and  he  wished  to  satisfy  it. 

In  the  morning  the  satrap  was  ready  betimes, 
and  at  an  early  hour  his  party  set  out,  accom 
panied  by  Bal.  Shortly  they  began  to  ascend 
the  mountain,  and  though  the  way  was  rugged 
and  dubious,  yet  Bal  led  them  up  surely.  When 
they  reached  the  top  of  the  first  mountain,  they 
saw  a  vale  ahead  of  them  in  which  the  grass 
grew  luxuriantly,  and  which  was  wooded  most 
ly  with  the  tree  of  the  pistachio  nut.  In  this 
vale  Bal  said  he  first  saw  the  strange  animal, 
and  so  the  party  descended  into  it,  but  nothing 
was  to  be  found  save  some  birds  and  small  ani 
mals.  Rustem  brought  down  two  large  birds 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


0 


with  his  arrows,  and  then  kept  on.  Bal  now 
led  them  over  the  top  of  another  mountain,  and 
from  thence  through  a  long,  rugged,  winding 
ravine,  and  not  until  near  noon  did  they  reach 
another  vale  where  vegetation  was  plenty.  But 
when  they  reached  this  second  vale,  they  found 
it  not  only  more  extensive  than  the  first,  but  far 
more  beautiful.  It  was  a  sort  of  basin  of  rich 
soil  amid  the  surrounding  mountains  of  rock, 
and  it  was  seldom  visited  by  man,  on  account  of 
the  rugged  way  that  led  to  it,  and  from  the  fact 
that  very  few  knew  the  only  path  by  which  it 
could  be  reached. 

After  viewing  the  beautiful  place  for  some 
minutes,  the  party  began  slowly  to  descend  to 
wards  it.  They  saw  many  wild  goats  frisking 
about  among  the  trees,  and  just  as  they  reached 
the  edge  of  the  place  they  started  up  a  wild  boar. 
Rustem  saw  the  huge  animal  start,  and  with  a 
shout  to  his  followers,  he  set  forward  upon  the 
chase*  Away  went  the  boar,  and  away  went  the 
satrap,  and  behind  him  came  the  score  of  men, 
eager  for  the  sport.  The  boar  ran  a  long  dis* 
tance  among  bushes  and  rank-weeds,  and  all 
heedless  of  scratches  and  rending  garments,  Rus- 
tem  followed  on.  At  length  they  came  to  an 
open  space,  and  when  the  boar  was  half  way 
across,  the  satrap  let  fly  a  javelin  ;  the  weapon 
struck  the  monster  just  behind  the  shoulder,  and 
he  turned.  He  rolled  over  upon  the  grass,  and 
this  served  to  drive  the  javelin  further  into  his 
flesh.  Rustem  had  watched  his  movements,  and 
as  soon  as  he  rolled  over  upon  the  ground,  the 
noble  hunter  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  running 
quickly  up,  he  gave  the  animal  a  blow  upon  the 
forehead  with  his  axe  that  stunned  him.  After 
this  the  brute  was  easily  despatched.  Rustem 
was  now  all  elate  and  eager.  He  was  fired  with 
enthusiasm,  and  was  ready  to  attack  anything 
that  should  present  itself.  As  soon  as  the  boar 
was  dead,  the  satrap  re-mounted  his  horse,  anc 
at  that  moment  a  shout  from  Bal  arrested  him. 

"  There,  there  !"  cried  the  old  hunter,  rushing 
towards  the  noble,  and  at  the  same  time  pointing 
off  towards  a  point  where  a  herd  of  goats  were 
huddled  together. 

Rustem  looked,  and  he  8aw  in  the  midst  o 
the  goats  the  animal  of  which  Bal  had  spoken 
He  at  first  approached  it  carefully,  and  found  i 
to  be  standing  upright.  Its  head  was  coverec 
with  a  thick  mass  of  black  hair,  which  hung  like 
the  mane  of  a  buffalo  or  lion.  The  body  was  o 
a  curious  shape,  and  of  a  green  color,  seeming 
to  be  coyered  with  scales.  As  soon  as  Rustem 


ad  satisfied  himself  with  gazing  upon  the 
trange  nondescript,  he  gave  the  word  for  the 
hase ;  but  he  was  careful  to  order  his  followers 
ot  to  wound  him  in  any  way,  unless  it  should 
ecome  absolutely  necessary  in  self-defence,  as 
e  wished  to  capture  the  thing  if  possible. 

"By  the  spirit  of  Ahriman,"  he  cried,  "I 
[ever  dreamed  of  such  a  monster.  It  is  neither 
,  man,  a  beast,  nor  a  bird  ;  nor  is  it  a  dragon, 
or  it  has  no  tail  of  such.  See  those  green  scales, 
low  they  glisten  in  the  sunlight.  If  it  is  a  de 
mon,  I  will  give  it  chase,  and  surely  the  name 
f  the  one  mighty  God  will  be  proof  against  his 
x>wer." 

As  he  thus  spoke,  he  set  forward,  and  his  party 
bllowed  on  after  him.  The  nondescript  watch* 
ed  his  coming  a  few  minutes,  and  then  sprang 
nto  the  bushes  and  disappeared,  most  of  the 
joats  following  after  him.  Rustem  urged  his 
lorse  on,  and  when  he  had  cleared  the  clump  of 
jushes,  he  saw  the  strange  animal  just  bounding 
away  towards  the  rocks  at  the  edge  of  the  woqd. 
Away  he  went,  his  horse  now  thoroughly  excited 
with  the  idea  of  the  chase,  and  soon  he  found 
limself  flying  along  a  rocky  ravine,  with  the 
londescript  only  a  short  distance  ahead.  Further 
on,  Rustem  saw  a  cliff  which  rose  directly  across 
the  ravine,  and  he  thought  he  should  surely  se 
cure  the  animal  there ;  but  he  was  mistaken,  for 
when  it  reached  the  cliff  it  sprang  up  the  ragged 
side  of  the  rock  with  incredible  agility,  and  in  a 
moment  more  would  have  disappeared.  The 
satrap  was  now  beside  himself  with  excitement. 
He  saw  that  he  should  not  be  able  to  make  his 
way  over  the  cliff  which  tho  nondescript  had 
mounted  with  so  much  agility,  except  with  much 
time  and  labor,  and  if  another  moment  were  lost 
he  should  lose  his  prey*  So  in  the  frenzy  of  the 
moment  he  snatched  a  javelin  and  hurled  it  with 
all  his  might.  The  strange  being  saw  the  move 
ment,  and  he  caught  the  weapon  as  it  went  whiz 
zing  by  him,  and  broke  it  in  pieces.  Some  of 
the  others,  seeing  the  movement  of  their  master, 
hurled  their  javelins.  The  nondescript  saw  them 
coming,  but  he  could  not  dodge  them  all ;  one  of 
them  struck  him  in  the  thigh,  and  he  set  up  a 
howl  of  rage  that  made  the  very  rocks  shake,  and 
then  disappeared  over  the  cliff. 

Rustem  would  have  dashed  on  and  climbed 
the  cliff,  but  Bal  told  him  that  by  riding  back  a 
short  distance  he  might  go  around  it.  He  did 
so,  and  having  gone  back  to  the  point  at  which 
he  entered  the  ravine,  he  took  another  path 
around  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and  ere  long 


10 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


he  came  to  an  extensive  table  of  loose  stones, 
and  at  a  short  distance  he  saw  the  afrite  sitting, 
trying  to  pull  the  javelin  from  his  flesh.  He 
tried  to  run  when  he  saw  his  enemies,  but  pain 
and  loss  of  blood  had  weakened  him,  and  he  was 
soon  caught.  He  did  not  struggle  at  all  when 
he  was  seized,  but  with  an  imploriHg  look  into 
the  face  of  the  satrap,  he  pointed  to  the  vengeful 
javelin,  and  then  he  folded  his  arms  across  his 
breast. 

Bnstem  and  his  followers  were  now  more 
astonished  than  before.  They  found  that  what 
they  had  taken  for  green  scales  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  garment  very  curiously 
made  of  leaves,  and  having  removed  a  part  of 
these  so  as  to  get  at  the  wound  of  the  javelin, 
they  found  that  the  skin  beneath  was  nearly  as 
white  as  their  own.  In  short,  they  discovered 
that  their  prize  was  in  truth  a  human  being,  or 
at  any  rate,  so  very  near  one  that  there  was  no 
external  sign  by  which  to  detect  the  difference. 
Among  the  noble's  followers  was  one  who  un 
derstood  the  secrets  of  the  surgical  art,  and  he 
extracted  the  barbed  head  of  the  javelin  without 
much  cutting  or  trouble.  The  wound  was  found 
to  be  only  in  the  flesh,  and  after  it  had  been 
carefully  bandaged,  Rustem  advanced  once  more 
and  spoke  with  the  strange  being,  but  he  got  no 
answer.  The  wild  youth— for  such  he  really 
was — threw  the  long,  tangled  black  hair  away 
from  his  face,  and  gazed  with  wonder  into  the 
countenances  of  those  about  him,  but  he  made 
no  answer  to  any  of  the  questions  that  were 
asked  of  him :  and  yet  his  face  did  not  seem  all 
a  blank — he  did  not  appear  like  one  who  had  no 
idea  of  the  nature  of  what  he  saw  and  heard, 
but  rather  like  one  who  was  sorely  puzzled.  The 
satrap  was  a  man  well  versed  in  language,  and 
he  spoke  in  all  he  could  remember,  but  the  youth 
understood  none  of  them — only  when  the  pure 
Persian  was  spoken,  he  manifested  an  interest 
that  did  not  appear  when  he  heard  others.  Rus- 
tem  then  approached  and  lifted  him  to  his  feet, 
at  the  same  time  making  signs  that  no  harm 
was  intended. 

Now  that  the  mystic  being  stood  erect,  his 
form  and  features  could  be  more  plainly  seen. 
He  had  a  noble  frame — tall  and  stout,  with  limbs 
of  perfect  symmetry,  and  rounded  and  turned  at 
every  point,  and  a  face  eminently  handsome,  not 
withstanding  the  bronzed  hue  which  exposure 
had  given  it.  He  could  not  have  been  more 
than  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age,  for  the  beard 
had  not  yet  begun  to  grow  upon  his  face,  though 


in  his  physical  frame  he  had  all  the  developments 
of  maturer  years.  After  trying  in  vain  to  get 
some  spoken  word  from  him,  Rustem  ordered 
him  to  be  put  upon  a  horse,  and  as  soon  as  he 
was  well  secured  the  party  returned.  They 
reached  the  hunter's  hut  just  after  the  sun  had 
set,  and  there  they  encamped  for  the  night. 

In  the  evening  Rustem  went  into  the  room 
where  he  had  had  the  wild  man  confined,  and 
found  him  lying  down,  but  he  rose  to  a  sitting 
posture  as  soon  as  he  saw  his  captor,  and  in  his 
look  and  movement  he  displayed  a  perfect  sub 
jection,  though,  as  it  afterwards  appeared,  it  was 
the  strange  fear  of  the  wounds  he  had  received 
that  made  him  so.  He  seemed  to  have  an  in 
stinctive  knowledge  that  such  a  loss  of  blood 
could  cause  death,  and  he  really  had  an  instinct 
ive  feeling  that  his  captors  could  save  him  from 
the  dread  fate.  The  satrap  talked  with  him  again, 
but  he  did  not  understand.  He  uttered  a  sound, 
but  it  was  a  wild,  thrilling,  sonorous  sound,  un 
like  anything  save  the  low  bellowing  of  the  buf 
falo. 

The  wound  was  dressed  again,  and  in  the 
morning  it  was  attended  to  once  more,  and  by 
this  time  it  was  found  to  be  doing  well.  In 
truth,  the  blood  and  flesh  of  the  sufferer  were  so 
pure,  so  free  from  disease  of  any  kind,  that  such 
a  flesh  wound,  though  quite  deep,  healed  rapidly. 

As  soon  as  breakfast  was  eaten,  Rustem  set 
out  upon  his  return  to  the  city,  for  he  considered 
that  he  gained  prize  enough  for  one  day.  On 
the  way,  he  pondered  upon  the  subject  of  the 
strange  game  he  had  captured,  and  he  had  at 
length  resolved  that  he  would  keep  the  wild 
youth  and  see  if  he  could  not  educate  him.  No 
sooner  was  this  plan  formed  than  he  called  his 
followers  about  him  and  made  them  swear  that 
they  would  not  speak  of  what  had  happened  to 
any  one,  for  he  wished  no  one  to  know  that  he 
had  such  a  being  within  his  place  :  first,  because 
he  wished  to  make  his  experiments  unencumber 
ed  by  the  advices  and  needless  assistance  of  those 
who  would  surely  offer  themselves  if  they  knew 
of  the  circumstances ;  and  second,  because  he 
thought  the  youth  himself  would  be  more  tract 
able  if  he  were  not  bothered  by  visitors. 

It  was  after  dark  when  Rustem  entered  the 
city,  and  he  reached  his  own  house  without  ex 
posing  his  prize.  His  followers  were  faithful, 
and  he  feared  not  for  them,  so  he  was  sure  he 
should  have  everything  as  he  could  wish ;  and 
he  promised  himself  much  pleasure  in  the  culture 
of  the  strange  mind  he  had  found. 


GflAFT£R  II. 


TUB   LION  HEART. 


FOR  a  while  Rustem  found  the  task  he  had 
undertaken  a  difficult  one  ;  but  he  did  not  give 
it  up.  When  he  had  caused  his  strange  protege 
to  be  clothed  in  the  common  garb,  he  found  him 
to  be  not  only  comely  in  appearance,  but  ex 
tremely  beautiful.  The  satrap  was  delighted 
with  this,  and  he  at  once  called  his  charge  Feri- 
doon,  which  signifies  The  Lion  Heart.  He  gave 
him  this  name  because  he  was  as  bold  and  strong 
as  a  lion,  and  because  he  exhibited  traits  of  no 
bleness  and  daring  with  which  the  king  of  beasts 
is  supposed  to  be  endowed. 

Rustem  furnished  seven  stout  men  to  take 
charge  of  his  adopted  son,  and  two  most  excel 
lent  masters  were  appointed  to  instruct  him. 
For  several  months  much  difficulty  was  experi 
enced  in  keeping  a  physical  control  over  the 
youth,  for  the  seven  stout  men  were  but  as  in 
fants  in  his  hands  when  he  became  enraged ;  but 
on  such  occasions  the  presence  of  his  master 
would  instantly  restore  him  to  composure. 

Feridoon  could  not  have  been  lost  when  a 
mere  suckling,  for  he  showed  some  signs  that 
plainly  evinced  a  faint  memory  of  the  sound  of 
language,  and  at  first,  when  his  guardians  were 
conversing,  he  would  watch  them  with  deep 
interest.  He  was  first  taught  to  pronounce  sim 
ple  words,  and  then  sentences,  and  at  the  end  of 
a  year  he  could  speak  very  plainly,  and  read  the 


more  simple  tales  of  the  language.  By  this 
time  his  temper,  too,  had  become  subdued,  and 
he  was  reasonable  in  all  his  demands,  and  would 
also  listen  to  reason. 

Thus  passed  away  five  years,  and,  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  Rustem  had  kept  his  secret  most 
safely.  Those  whom  he  had  trusted  had  not 
betrayed  him,  and  none  in  the  city,  save  one  or 
two  old  scholars  and  his  own  household,  knew 
that  he  had  a  youth  of  adoption  beneath  his 
roof.  Even  his  own  wives  did  not  know  it. 
They  knew  that  he  had  some  one  confined  in  the 
further  apartment  of  the  great  palace,  but  they 
knew  not  who  it  was. 

And  during  these  five  years  Feridoon  had  be 
come  a  finished,  polished  scholar.  All  that  time 
his  teachers  had  labored  with  him  to  teach  him 
the  arts  and  secrets  of  science  and  literature,  and 
from  the  very  first  he  had  evinced  a  warm  de 
sire  to  learn.  As  soon  as  he  had  become  able  to 
read  and  speak,  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  his 
thirst  for  knowledge.  The  most  knotty  points 
of  politics  he  seized  arid  dwelt  upon,  and  he 
would  not  let  them  go  until  he  had  solved  them 
to  his  heart's  content.  As  the  fifth  year  drew  to 
a  close,  Feridoon  began  to  discuss  with  his 
teachers,  and  they  found,  to  their  surprise,  that 
they  had  raised  up  a  mind  more  mighty  than 
their  own.  The  secret  was,  they  had  found  a 


12 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


soul  and  mind  of  God's  own  forming,  and  all 
they  could  do  was  to  give  it  the  field  in  which  to 
work.  At  this  time  the  old  teachers  approached 
the  more  direct  points  of  government,  and  they 
found  that  their  scholar  met  them  in  their  argu 
ments.  They  found  that  his  mind  had  already 
grasped  these  points  in  advance.  They  explain 
ed  to  him  the  rights  of  kings  and  the  duty  of 
subjects,  but  Feridoon  stopped  them  in  the  midst 
of  their  disquisition,  and  told  them  they  must  be 
wrong. 

"  Surely,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  sweetness  and 
candor,  but  yet  with  much  power  and  energy, 
"  after  what  you  have  told  me  of  the  principles 
of  humanity,  of  religion,  of  social  rights,  and  of 
political  power,  you  will  not  tell  me  that  one 
man  can  hold  the  governing  power  over  all 
others,  unless  all  those  others  wish  it." 

"  But  some  one  must  govern,"  answered  the 
tutors,  "  and  let  it  be  whom  it  may,  others  will 
find  fault." 

"  Not  if  his  government  be  just  and  equitable," 
answered  Feridoon.  "  If  ke  shows  that  the  whole 
energies  of  his  soul  are  given  for  the  good  of  his 
people,  then  of  course  none  who  are  fit  to  be 
governed  can  find  fault.  Those  who  would  mur 
mur  at  such  rule  would  be  themselves  the  op 
pressors,  and  should  be  dealt  with  accordingly. 
Surely  there  can  be  no  true  government  without 
the  consent  of  the  governed,  for  if  such  a  gov 
ernment  could  exist,  it  would  show  the  power  of 
Might  over  Right." 

It  was  in  this  way  that  Feridoon  finished  his 
education,  and  at  every  point  where  he  differed 
from  his  tutors,  he  was  sure  to  carry  the  day. 

But  the  youth's  education  was  not  yet  com 
plete.  One  dark  night  Rustem  called  six  of  his 
most  trusty  guards,  and  with  them  he  set  off  in 
to  the  country,  taking  Feridoon  with  him.  He 
stopped  upon  a  beautiful  oasis  in  the  midst  of 
,the  great  desert  to  the  northeast  of  the  city,  and 
there  he  finished  the  youth's  instruction  in  the 
use  of  arms.  Feridoon  had  already  received 
instruction  in  the  use  of  the  sword  and  dagger, 
but  now  he  was  cased  in  heavy  armor,  and 
mounted  upon  a  fiery  steed,  and  taught  to  make 
use  of  the  lance  and  battle-axe.  A  stout  lance 
was  given  him,  and  he  was  directed  to  run  it 
against  a  certain  point  in  a  distant  tree  upon  a 
full  gallop.  He  performed  the  feat  the  first  time, 
and  ere  long  he  convinced  his  guardian  that  no 
more  instruction  could  be  given  him  in  the  use 
of  arms,  for  he  exhibited  a  rapidity  of  move 
ment,  a  quickness  of  motion,  a  clearness  of  per 


ception,  and  an  unfailing  sight,  that  they  had 
never  seen  equalled.  In  physical  strength,  he 
was  a  literal  giant.  When  he  was  taken  from 
the  wild  mountains,  his  physical  powers  had  be 
come  fully  developed,  and  even  then  he  pos 
sessed  all  the  brute  force  of  the  lion,  but  now  he 
was  stronger  still. 

The  youth  was  taken  back  to  the  city  by  night, 
and  once  more  he  found  himself  in  his  own  rooms 
at  the  satrap's  palace. 

On  the  morning  that  ushered  in  the  sixth  year 
of  Feridoon's  liberation  from  the  wilderness, 
R astern  went  in  alone  to  see  him.  He  was  now 
twenty  years  old  at  least,  and  probably  more 
than  that.  At  any  rate  the  satrap  called  him 
one-and-twenty.  Pie  arose  as  his  master  entered, 
and  saluted  him  with  becoming  obeisance.  Rus 
tem  gazed  upon  his  charge  in  admiration ;  and 
well  he  might,  for  surely  a  more  comely  youth 
did  not  exist.  He  was  now  tall  and  well -formed, 
with  every  physical  point  of  beauty  fully  devel 
oped,  and  his  carriage  was  as  easy  and  graceful 
as  that  of  the  most  assiduous  courtier.  His  fea 
tures  were  not  only  perfect  in  form  and  regular 
ity,  but  in  their  combination  they  presented  a 
beauty  such  as  Rustem  had  never  seen  else 
where.  His  hair  was  black  as  night,  and  hung 
in  glossy  curls  all  around  his  neck  and  shoul 
ders  ;  and  his  eyes,  which  were  also  black, 
sparkled  and  burned  like  the  evening  stars. 

Rustem  was  happy,  for  he  had  now  a  son. 
Surely,  he  had  a  right  to  claim  Feridoon  as  his 
own,  for  he  had  not  only  reared  him  to  full  man 
hood,  but  he  had  done  more  ;  he  had  done  more 
than  give  him  life  even — he  had  snatched  him 
from  a  state  of  savageness  and  wildness — he  had 
taken  him  from  the  literal  state  of  the  brutes,  and 
made  him  a  man.  So  Rustem  had  made  all  his 
servants,  who  were  in  the  secret,  swear  that  they 
would  always  call  Feridoon  his  own  child ;  and 
when  asked  concerning  him,  they  would  repeat 
the  story  he  should  give  them.  And  that  story 
was  this.  Said  Rustem  : 

"After  many  prayers  and  sacrifices  unto  God, 
the  dearest  wish  of  my  soul  was  granted.  One 
of  the  spirits  of  Ormuzd  appeared  to  me  in  a 
dream,  and  told  me  that  my  wife  Sarah  should 
bear  me  a  son,  and  that  I  should  call  his  name 
Feridoon,  for  he  should  be  of  a  lion  heart.  And 
because  of  his  lion  heart  I  should  keep  him  from 
the  world  till  he  should  have  fulfilled  the  full  pe 
riod  of  manhood.  And  my  wife  Sarah  did  bear 
me  a  son,  and  I  called  his  name  Feridoon,  and  I 
kept  him  away  from  the  world.  But  the  mother 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


13 


of  the  child  died,  and  the  infant  was  reared  upon 
the  milk  of  g&ats,  and  he  waxed  strong  in  body 
and  strong  in  mind.  So  I  kept  him  apart  from 
all  others  of  his  kind,  save  those  who  should 
teach  him  ;  and  even  the  fact  of  his  birth  I  kept 
hid.  But  now  the  period  of  his  manhood  is 
come,  and  he  goes  forth  to  the  world.  So  shall 
ye  speak  to  all  who  may  ask  of  you  concerning 
Feridoon." 

And  they  swore  that  so  they  would  speak,  and 
even  the  youth  himself,  out  of  his  great  grati 
tude  and  love,  gave  promise  to  the  same. 

After  Rustem.  had  gazed  with  delight  upon  his 
son  for  a  long  while,  he  thought  he  would  ques 
tion  him  upon  the  point  of  his  memory  of  child 
hood.  He  had  never  yet  asked  of  that,  because 
he  feared  he  might  call  up  some  memories  in  the 
youth's  mind  that  would  clash  with  his  own  hopes 
and  designs. 

"  My  son,"  he  said,  taking  a  seat  by  the  side 
of  the  youth,  "  I  wish  to  ask  you  concerning 
your  early  childhood." 

"  Do  you  not  already  know  that  1"  returned 
Feridoon,  smiling. 

"  Not  of  your*  earliest  childhood.  I  would 
know  if  you  can  remember  anything  of  your 
parents." 

The  youth  gazed  into  the  old  man's  face  for 
some  moments,  and  then  he  bowed  his  head. 
He  pondered  a  long  while  upon  the  subject  thus 
presented,  and  finally  he  said : 

"  I  suppose  you  may  now  be  my  parent,  but 
yet  my  mind  sees  nothing  of  you  beyond  the 
time  when  you  gave  me  chase  in  the  mountain. 
I  remember  that,  and  I  remember  far  back  of 
that;  but  had  you  never  found  me,  I  should 
have  always  looked  upon  a  certain  old  goat  as 
my  parent.  You  will  remember  that  I  had  no 
knowledge  then  of  humanity,  or  of  races,  save 
that  I  knew  I  was  not  a  boar  nor  a  bird,  but  I 
think  I  did  really  think  myself  a  goat,  though 
of  different  formation.  You  must  not  laugh  at 
the  absurdity  of  what  I  say,  for  then  this  great 
soul,  this  wonderful  source  of  knowledge,  had 
not  been  felt  by  me,  and  I  only  felt  the  instinct 
which  governs  the  brutes." 

"  Of  course  you  could  only  feel  that,"  an 
swered  Rustem ;  "  and  so  far  from  laughing  am 
I,  that  I  feel  deeply  interested  in  what  you  say. 
Can  you  remember  your  first  impressions'? 
What  I  would  know  is,  how  far  back  your  mem 
ory  can  run." 

Again  Feridoon  thought  deeply,  and  at  length 
he  said : 


"Away  back  in  the  distant  years  of  life,  when 
I  was  small  and  weak,  I  can  see  a  deep  cave  in 
the  rocks,  and  there  I  lived  among  a  flock  of 
goats.  I  well  remember  the  goat  from  which  I 
received  my  milk,  and  I  remember,  too,  of  find 
ing  sweet  fruits  which  I  ate.  From  that  time  I 
waxed  large  and  strong,  so  that  at  length  I  pro 
tected  my  goats  often  from  their  enemies.  Once 
I  remember  of  killing  a  monstrous  boar  that  at 
tacked  us.  I  sprang  upon  him  with  a  club,  and 
killed  him  as  easily  as  I  could  now  kill  one  of 
your  warriors." 

"  And  back  of  that ;  can  your  memory  see 
nothing  else— nothing  of  the  human  face  and 
voice  ?" 

"Ah!"  uttered  the  youth,  while  a  sudden 
beam  of  light  shot  athwart  his  handsome  face, 
"  I  remember  how  my  heart  thrilled  when  first 
I  saw  your  face,  and  heard  your  voice.  It  was 
that  alone  which  made  me  so  submissive  to 
your  will.  I  was  entranced  by  your  speech,  for 
it  awoke  in  my  soul  a  set  of  feelings  which,  as  I 
can  now  see,  must  have  sprung  from  some  recol 
lections  which  still  clung  faintly  to  my  mind, 
But  I  could  never  explain  them,  never  analyze 
them,  though  of  course  I  can  now  see  that  they 
must  have  come  from  the  memory  of  scenes,  and 
faces,  and  speeches,  which  I  had  heard  and 
seen  before.  Then,  too,  I  sometimes  think  I 
can  see  a  dim,  flickering  picture  of  blood  and 
strife — of  flashing  steel  and  sharp  cries,  and  of 
loud  curses — but  I  have  no  form  or  feature  to 
the  scene." 

After  conversing  a  while  longer  upon  the 
same  subject,  Eastern  became  convinced  that 
Feridoon  was  two  or  three  years  old,  at  least, 
when  he  was  lost,  and  in  all  probability  his  fa 
ther  had  been  a  merchant,  and  had  been  mur^ 
dered  and  robbed  upon  the  desert.  Nothing 
else  seemed  so  reasonable  as  this,  and  upon  it 
he  rested  his  thoughts  of  Feridoon's  origin, 
That  Feridoon  was  a  Persian  he  knew,  and 
from  his  form  and  features,  he  believed  him  to 
be  a  native  of  Persepolis. 

"And  now,"  said  the  youth,  "I  am  to  see 
your  females ;  I  am  to  mix  in  your  society  of 
men  and  women,  and  find  good  and  evil.  Do 
you  think  people  will  love  me  ?" 

"  Most  surely  they  will." 

"And  will  the  females  love  me  ?" 

"Ay,"  answered  Rustem,  with  enthusiasm. 
"  They  will  fall  down  at  thy  feet,  even  as  the 
worshipper  sinks  dojvvn  before  the  morning's  sun. 


14 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


Among  all  our  people  there  is  not  another  so 
comely  as  thou  art." 

reridoon  blushed,  and  after  a  while,  he  said  : 

"And  may  I  not  find  among  the  females  of 
our  city  some  kind  heart  and  noble  soul  with 
which  I  can  mate  ?" 

"  What  know  you  of  such  things  ?"  asked 
the  satrap.  "  You  have  never  seen  a  woman's 
face." 

"  0, 1  have,  my  father." 

"Have!    When?" 

"  When  I  have  slept." 

"  You  have  dreamed,  then  ?" 

"Perhaps  so.  But  I  have  seen  some  most 
lovely  forms.  And  I  have  been  taught,  too,  of 
the  love  of  woman.  In  many  of  the  tales  that 
I  have  read,  woman  stands  out  as  the  very  type 
of  that  true  love  which  my  soul  feels  is  the 
most  sacred  and  pure.  In  nearly  all  the  manu 
scripts  I  have  read,  the  writers  have  striven  to 
make  woman  seem  an  angel.  Is  it  so  ?" 


"  Sometimes  it  is,  but  often  it  is  not,"  re 
turned  Rustem,  somewhat  puzzled  by  his  pro 
tege's  manner  and  thoughts.  "  But  let  not  your 
thoughts  turn  upon  that  point.  Seek  first  to 
read  the  truth  of  humanity  as  you  shall  find 
it  spread  out  about  you,  and  then  you  may  go 
on  and  seek  such  companions  as  jou  like,  after 
your  judgment  has  become  experienced." 

Much  more  conversation  was  held,  and  when 
Rustem  left  his  protege,  it  was  decided  that  on 
the  following  day  he  should  be  taken  to  the 
court  of  the  king,  and  introduced  to  the  nobles 
and  courtiers.  This  pleased  Feridoon  much, 
and  he  was  grateful  for  the  favor  thus  extend 
ed.  He  supposed  he  was  now  to  be  introduced 
into  the  midst  of  those  who  would  show  him  all 
the  virtues  and  beauties  of  social  life,  and  the 
truth  and  justice  of  moral  government.  Alas  ! 
how  sadly  was  he  deceived. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE   ASTROLOGER. 


THE  secret  of  Feridoon's  strict  obedience  to 
the  wishes  of  Rustem  had  been  gratitude.  As 
soon  as  he  became  conscious  of  his  advancing 
knowledge  and  consequent  happiness,  his  whole 
soul  was  not  only  given  to  the  work,  but  it  was 
also  turned  in  thankfulness  upon  his  benefactor. 
He  had  not  submitted  to  his  close  confinement 
because  he  deemed  that  any  one  had  a  right  to 
keep  him  there,  but  because  he  was  willing  to 
sacrifice  his  personal  liberty  for  the  knowledge 
he  was  receiving.  No  one  had  ever  yet  aroused 
him  to  anger,  and  'consequently  no  one  had 
witnessed  the  effects  of  his  wrath.  All  that  he 
had  manifested  had  been  the  natural  kindness 
and  nobleness  of  his  soul ;  and  though  in  the 
course  of  his  martial  and  manual  studies  he  had 
evinced  surprising  degrees  of  strength,  yet  not 
one  of  those  who  knew  him  even  dreamed  of  the 
mighty  physical  power  that  lay  at  rest  within 
the  muscles  and  sinews  of  his  comely  frame. 

The  apartments  he  had  occupied  were  six  in 
number,  and  among  them  was  a  large  artificial 
garden,  that  had  been  constructed  especially  for 
his  use.  From  these  apartments  he  cauld  at 
any  time  have  easily  made  his  way  had  he  been 
so  disposed ;  but  he  had  no  desire  so  to  do,  for 
lie  knew  that  his  guardian  wished  him  not  to. 

On  the  following  morning  Feridoon  was  array 
ed  in  a  garb  of  rich  and  costly  fabric,  and  in 


company  with  his  father,  he  went  to  the  court  of 
the  king.  On  the  way  he  found  much  to  attract 
his  attention,  and  several  times  he  stopped  his 
horse  to  gaze  upon  the  various  objects  of  wonder 
that  met  his  sight.  And  people  looked  at  him, 
too. 

"  Surely,"  said  one,  "  that  must  be  the  son  of 
some  powerful  king  whom  the  satrap  has  re 
ceived  from  abroad." 

"  Nay,"  said  another,  "  it  must  be  some  real 
king,  for  see  how  nobly  he  rides,  and  AVith  what 
majesty  he  holds  his  head.  Most  surely,  one 
who  has  been  ruled  all  his  days  would  not  ride 
like  that." 

"  Upon  my  faith  you  are  all  wrong/'  spoke  a 
merchant,  who  happened  to  be  passing.  "That 
is  no  less  than  Eustem's  son,  for  I  heard  yester 
day  that  he  had  a  son  whom  he  had  kept  seclud 
ed  for  one- and- twenty  years." 

Upon  this,  the  people  pressed  after  the  youth 
and  gazed  vronderingly  upon  him,  and  soon 
their  murmurs  broke  forth  into  shouts  of  ap 
plause.  At  length  Feridoon  became  aware  that 
he  was  the  object  of  all  this  commotion,  and  he 
raised  his  hat  and  bowed  to  the  crowd.  Then 
he  rode  more  closely  to  his  father's  side  and  ask 
ed  him  for  his  purse.  The  satrap  gave  it  up 
without  asking  a  question,  and  as  soon  as  Feri 
doon  received  it  he  commenced  to  scatter  pieces 


16 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLEE. 


of  gold  among  the  crowd.  He  had  read  in  old 
manuscripts  that  benevolent  princes  had  done  so, 
and  as  he  saw  much  poverty  about  him,  he  wish 
ed  to  do  the  same.  This  raised  the  admiration  of 
the  people  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  it  well  pleas 
ed  the  satrap,  for  he  loved  to  see  his  assumed 
son  thus  honored. 

In  due  time  they  reached  the  royal  palace, 
and  Feridoon  was  introduced  to  the  king.  He 
had  been  instructed  how  to  behave,  and  as  soon 
as  he  found  himself  in  the  royal  presence,  he  fell 
on  his  knees  and  bowed  his  head. 

This  king's  name  was  Sohrab.  He  was  now 
past  the  meridian  of  life,  and  his  countenance 
gave  signs  of  a  jealous,  bitter  spirit,  and  his 
whole  form  and  feature  gave  token  of  a  riotous 
and  sensual  indulgence  and  excess.  He  had 
formerly  been  a  powerful  general  under  Kei 
Khosrou,  the  former  king.  In  an  excursion 
against  the  insurgent  Khorasons,  Kei  Khosrou 
was  taken  sick,  and  in  that  state  he  was  brought 
back  to  die.  Feridoon  had  heard  the  story  from 
his  father,  and  he  knew  how  Sohrab  came  on 
the  throne.  He  had  heard  how  the  old  king 
was  taken  sick  and  crazy,  and  how  he  was 
brought  back  to  Persepolis  to  die.  After  he 
was  dead,  his  body  was  laid  in  the  great  hall  of 
the  capitol,  all  exposed  to  view,  and  all  the 
people  of  the  kingdom  came  to  look  on  those 
noble  features  in  death,  and  to  pray  for  a  suc 
cessor  as  good  and  just  as  he  had  been.  At 
the  end  of  a  week,  the  body  of  the  dead  king 
was  embalmed  and  laid  away  in  the  royal  sep 
ulchre,  and  then  Sohrab  proclaimed  himself 
king.  The  soldiers  sustained  him,  for  he  made 
tnem  promises  of  great  honors,  and  as  Kei 
Khosrou  had  left  no  child  behind  him,  the  peo 
ple  submitted  to  Sohrab's  rule. 

All  this  Feridoon  had  heard,  and  in  his  soul 
he  felt  that  the  man  before  him  was  not  a  true 
king — that  he  did  not  stand  as  a  true  representa 
tive  of  the  interests  of  the  people.  But  when  he 
came  to  look  into  the  king's  face,  he  was  sorely 
distressed,  for  he  saw  there  the  marks  of  a  wick 
ed  man,  and  his  proud  soul  shrank  from  bow 
ing  to  such  a  man.  But  the  king  was  delighted 
with  Feridoon,  and  he  heaped  on  him  the  most 
fulsome  flattery,  and  also  did  he  natter  Rustem 
for  having  raised  up  such  a  son. 

"  By  my  royal  head,"  he  cried,  after  he  had 
gazed  well  upon  the  youth,  "you  should  be  ever 
near  our  person.  Some  of  my  best  warriors 
shall  learn  you  to  bear  arms,  and  in  time  your 
sinews  may  become  strong  and  tough.  How 


would  it  suit  you  to  live  here  in  this  our  royal 
palace  ?" 

"  For  the  present,  O  king,  I  would  live  with 
my  father/'  returned  the  youth. 

"  So  be  it,  then ;  only  let  me  have  the  light 
of  thy  countenance  often.'* 

After  much  such  talk,  Rustem  and  his  son 
withdrew  and  proceeded  on  their  way  home. 
Feridoon  gave  full  scope  to  his  feelings,  and 
failed  not  to  speak  his  thought  of  the  king.  The 
satrap  chided  him  for  his  speech,  and  express* 
ed  sorrow  for  his  opinions. 

"  For,"  said  he,  "  Sohrab'  is  our  king,  and  as 
such,  we  must  love  and  honor  him.  He  has 
been  a  great  friend  to  me,  and  not  for  half  my 
wealth  would  I  have  you  incur  his  displeasure, 
He  is  revengeful,  too,  and  would  surely  put  you 
to  death  if  he  heard  that  you  spoke  against 
him." 

"Put  me  to  death  for  merely  speaking!"  ut 
tered  Feridoon  in  surprise. 

"Ay,  most  surely." 

"  But  his  people  would  object." 

"Ah,  my  son,  he  is  the  people.  They  move 
only  through  him.  His  will  is  their  law." 

The  youth  pondered  awhile,  and  then  he  said  : 

"  I  will  be  as  careful  as  I  can  ;  but  the  king 
had  better  not  lift  a  hand  against  me,  for  I  should 
surely  smite  him." 

The  satrap  said  no  more,  for  he  knew  that  his 
son  was  governed  by  just  thoughts,  and  it  was 
beyond  his  power  to  combat  them.  And  then 
he  was  thus  led  to  view  himself  in  rather  an  un 
favorable  light,  for  he  had  himself  had  some  hand 
in  elevating  Sohrab  to  the  throne.  In  view  of 
receiving  the  office  of  satrap  of  Persepolis,  he 
had  given  all  his  influence  for  that  man. 

"When  they  reached  their  dwelling,  they  found 
an  old  man  sitting  in  the  hall.  Even  the  satrap 
was  inspired  with  much  reverence  by  the  strang* 
er's  venerable  looks,  and  Feridoon  bowed  with 
pure  esteem  and  respect,  This  stranger  was  an 
old  man,  past  the  bound  of  threescore  and  ten, 
of  a  tall,  commanding  form,  but  somewhat  bent 
beneath  the  weight  of  years.  His  hair  and 
beard  were  white  as  snow,  and  long  and  flow* 
ing.  His  face  was  kind  and  generous  in  its  ex* 
pression,  and  a  natural  mildness  softened  every 
feature.  His  dress  was  a  robe  of  blue  cloth, 
confined  at  the  loins  by  a  girdle  of  silk.  He 
wore  heavy  sandals  upon  his  feet,  and  upon  hig 
head  was  a  hat  of  curious  shape.  His  blue  robe 
was  worked  with  curious  devices  in  figures  of 
gold,  and  his  girdle  was  worked  the  same. 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


17 


"  Whom  have  we  here  ?"  asked  Rustem,  after 
he  had  bowed  to  the  old  man. 

"My  name  is  Kobad,"  returned  the  stranger. 

"  Ha !"  uttered  Rustem,  seeming  a  little  star 
tled  at  first,  "the  profound  astrologer  of 
Arabia  ?" 

"Ay — once  of  Arabia — but  now  of  Persia," 
returned  the  old  man. 

Both  the  satrap  and  his  son  were  considera 
bly  moved  by  this  announcement,  though  through 
different  emotions.  Rustem  was  moved  by  a 
natural  superstitious  idea  of  the  astrologer's 
power,  mingled  with  some  dread ;  while  Eeri- 
doon  was  moved  alone  by  the  superior  knowl 
edge  that  he  had  heard  attributed  to  the  wonder 
ful  man.  He  had  heard  that  Kobad  not  only 
read  great  truths  from  the  stars,  but  that  he 
made  them  subserve  his  own  purposes  by  hav 
ing  learned  to  count  their  changes-and  foretell 
their  conjunctions  and  appearances.  And  then 
his  teachers,  or  one  of  them,  had  told  him  that  the 
astrologer  was  the  most  deeply  versed  in  hu 
man  nature,  in  the  laws  of  right  and  wrong,  and 
in  the  various  occult  sciences,  of  any  man  with 
whom  he  had  ever  conversed.  All  this  made 
the  youth  look  upon  the  old  man  with  more 
than  ordinary  reverence,  and  he  failed  not  to 
show  his  feelings  in  his  glowing  looks. 

"  You  are  the  satrap  Rustem  ?"  said  Kobad, 
after  he  had  looked  awhile  on  the  youth  and 
then  turned  fo  the  officer. 

"  I  am,  sir." 

"And  this  youth — who  is  he  ?" 

"  My  son,"  replied  Rustem,  with  some  hesi 
tation. 

"  The  child  of  your  own  flesh  and  blood  ?" 

"  I  so  look  upon  him,"  answered  the  satrap, 
after  another  Hesitation. 

"  It  matters  not  how  you  look  upon  him," 
returned  the  astrologer,  rather  sternly;  "every 
man  should  know  the  child  of  his  own  loins. 
Is  this  youth  such  to  you  !" 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Because  I  would  sec  if  you  think  to  deceive 
me.  However,  let  that  pass.  I  blame  you  not 
for  wishing  to  pass  so  noble  a  youth  off  as  your 
own ;  but  nothing  within  the  range  of  human 
destiny  is  hidden  from  me." 

"Then  you  know  all?"  uttered  Rustem, 
tremulously. 

"All  that  I  wish  to  know.  There  be  many 
things  I  wish  not  to  know,  so  I  seek  them  not. 
All  that  you  know  about  the  childhood  of  Fer- 
idoon,  I  know.  If  I  knew  more,  you  would  not 


rest  until  I  had  told  it  to  you,  so  I  choose  not  to 
delve  it  out  from  the  bank  of  mystery  that  now 
holds  it  in  burial.  But  I  have  come  to  see  the 
youth  himself,  and  I  have  that  to  tell  him  that 
may  be  of  lasting  good  to  him." 

"  Then,"  said  Eeridoon,  his  eyes  sparkling  with 
pleasure,  "  I  pray  you  come  at  once  to  my 
apartments,  for  I  shall  hold  it  a  joy  to  converse 
with  one  so  learned." 

"And  do  you  think  to  learn  my  mystic 
science  ?"  asked  the  astrologer,  gazing  sharply 
into  the  young  man's  face. 

"  I  wish  to  learn  nothing  that  is  by  right  your 
secret — only  what  is  proper  for  me  to  know 
would  I  learn." 

This  answer  pleased  Kobad  greatly,  and  he 
embraced  the  youth  Avith  enthusiasm.  After  this 
the  satrap  gave  his  consent  for  his  son  and  the 
astrologer  to  retire  together,  and  he  did  it  the 
more  readily  because  he  believed  that  he  should 
learn  from  the  former  all  that  transpired ;  but 
he  would  not  have  dared  to  refuse  under  any 
circumstance,  seeing  that  the  secret  was  only 
in  the  strange  man's  hands,  but  that  he  knew 
much  more  of  the  youth,  or  might  do  so,  than 
he  did  himself. 

Eeridoon  led  the  way  to  his  own  apartments, 
and  when  he  came  to  the  stairs  he  assisted  his 
aged  companion  to  ascend.  When  they  had 
finally  reached  their  destination,  the  youth  seated 
the  sage  upon  a  soft  lounge  and  then  drew  up  a 
cushion  and  seated  himself  at  his  feet. 

Upon  this  the  old  man  commenced  to  ask  ques 
tions,  and  Eeridoon  answered  them  readily  and 
promptly.  All  the  branches  of  learning  of  the 
times  were  gone  through  with,  and  our  hero 
proved  himself  to  be  master  of  them  all. 

"My  son,"  said  the  old  man,  after  he  had 
gone  through  with  all  such  branches  as  were 
available  to  the  best  scholars  of  the  times,  even 
to  the  science  of  government,  "  I  find  you  a  very 
wonder  in  learning,  and  it  is  no  very  difficult 
thing  to  predict  for  you  a  brilliant  and  useful  fu 
ture.  I  know  you  have  bravery  equal  to  your 
intellect." 

"  I  fear  nothing,  save  evil  from  my  own  soul," 
was  the  youth's  response. 

"  Good,  my  son.  And  one  with  such  a  frame 
should  have  some  strength  too  ;  for  we  live  in 
times  when  even  the  most  pure  in  soul,  and  the 
most  gigantic  in  intellect,  must  sometimes  over 
come  mere  brute  force.  Do  you  think  that  age 
will  give  you  the  physical  strength  to  do  that  ?" 

Feridoon  smiled.    At  that  instant    a  black 


18 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


slave,  of  huge  stature  passed  through  the  gar 
den.  He  was  one  of  Feridoon's  own  attend 
ants,  and  the  youth  called  him  up.  The  black 
soon  stood  in  the  presence  of  his  master,  a  giant 
in  bulk,  and  with  muscles  like  young  yew 
trees. 

"  Fear  not,"  my  faithful  fellow,"  said  Feri- 
doon,  as  he  arose,  "  I  am  not  going  to  hurt 
you." 

As  he  spoke,  he  placed  his  right  hand  upon 
the  stout  leathern  girdle  that  confined  the  slave's 
shirt,  and  the  left  hand  he  placed  beneath  the 
fellow's  thigh;  then,  with  a  quick  movement, 
he  raised  the  bulky  body  of  the  huge  black  from 
the  floor,  and  lifting  it  high  above  his  head,  he 
gave  it  one  mighty  swing,  and  hurled  it  to  the 
centre  of  the  small  lake  that  had  been  dug  in  the 
centre  of  the  garden,  the  great  glass  doors  being 
open,  and  the  way  all  clear.  The  youth  saw 
the  slave  crawl  out  from  the  troubled  water  un 
hurt,  and  then  went  and  sat  down  again  at  the 
old  man's  feet. 

For  a  while  Kobad  could  hardly  believe  the 
evidence  of  his  own  senses.  He  gazed  first  upon 
the  slave  while  he  floundered  in  the  lakelet,  and 
then  he  gazed  upon  the  youth.  It  was  true,  for 
he  had  seen  it,  and  as  soon  as  he  seemed  to  be 
sure  that  his  eyes  had  not  deceived  him,  he 
embraced  the  youth,  and  in  a  fervent  tone,  he 
uttered : 

"  Surely  God  has  raised  thee  up  for  some  no 
ble  and  glorious  purpose.  Now  I  will  tell  thee 
what  thou  shalt  do,  and  be  assured  that  I  speak 
for  thy  good.  To-morrow  morning,  as  soon  as 
thou  hast  partaken  of  thy  morning's  meal,  go 
out  and  find  the  house  of  Zak  Turan,  the  cob 
bler.  Go  down  this  street  till  you  come  to  the 
great  fountain  of  the  lion ;  there  turn  to  the  left, 
and  ere  long  you  will  find  yourself  face  to  face 
with  the  brazen  statue  of  Zal.  To  the  right 
hand  there  you  will  see  a  narrow  street  running 
towards  the  sepulchre  of  Paishdadains ;  half 
way  down  this  -street,  upon  the  left  hand,  you 
will  see  a  cobbler's  stall,  and  within  you  will 
find  an  old  man  at  work.  He  is  a  good  man, 


and  will  be  friendly.  Tell  him  you  wish  to  rest, 
and  if  he  offers  you  a  seat  in  his  stall,  tell  him 
that  I  sent  you  to  him.  I  would  not  have  sent 
thee  upon  this  mission,  but  I  have  proved  thee 
to  be  all  that  a  yottth  can  be  in  knowledge  and 
truth,  and  I  fear  not  to  trust  thee." 

"  But  you  know  not  of  my  more  deep-set  char 
acteristics,"  said  Feridoon ;  "  those  evils  or  vir 
tues  that  underlie  all  manhood,  and  make  it  in 
the  end  either  good  or  bad." 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  returned  the  astrologer.  "  I 
have  seen  and  conversed  with  one  of  your  tutors, 
and  he  has  told  me  all  your  points  of  character. 
Yet  I  could  not  believe  in  your  knowledge  till  I 
had  tried  you  myself." 

"And  do  you  find  me  with  an  education  be 
fitting  one  of  my  age?" 

"Ay — well,  well — past  my  most  sanguine 
hopes." 

"  But  what  hopes  can  you  have  ?" 

"  Hopes  of  finding  in  all  Persia  one  man  who 
is  fit  for  the  business  Heaven  has  in  hand.  But 
I  have  not  time  now  to  waste.  Go  to-morrow 
morning  as  I  have  explained,  and  you  shall  not 
regret  it." 

"But  surely  I  may  have  some  reason  for 
going  ?" 

"  Only  that  it  is  my  wish,  and  for  your  good. 
You  should  ask  no  more." 

"But  have  you  no  more  directions — no  more 
advice  V 

"  Not  now.  Go  as  I  have  directed,,  and  your 
own  judgment  will  dictate  the  rest." 

Feridoon  was  sorely  puzzled,  but  he  asked  no 
more  questions.  That  the  astrologer  was  hon 
est  and  true,  he  could  not  doubt,  for  the  fact 
was  written  in  every  line  of  those  mild,  time- 
worn  features.  As  Kobad  spoke,  he  arose  from 
his  seat  and  turned  away  from  the  apartment. 
Feridoon  conducted  him  to  the  street,  and  when 
there  the  youth  asked  : 

"  When  shall  we  meet  again  ?" 

"  When  there  is  need." 

And  with  this  he  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


ZILLAH. 


WHEN  Feridoon  returned  to  his  room  he  was 
beside  himself  with  puzzling  conjectures.  While 
the  astrologer  had  been  with  him  he  had  been  so 
taken  up  with  the  majestic  presence  of  the  man 
that  he  had  had  no  time  to  indulge  in  the  natural 
inquiries  which  such  a  presence  would  be  likely 
to  bring  up ;  but  now  that  he  was  alone,  all  these 
thoughts  came  rushing  upon  him.  His  mind 
dwelt  upon  three  points  :  first,  what  could  give 
cause  for  the  interest  of  such  a  man  as  the  Ara 
bian  astrologer  in  his  behalf1?  second,  why  was 
this  interest  ? — that  is,  what  particular  purpose 
was  there  in  it  ?  third,  what  could  possibly  be 
the  intent  of  his  seeking  out  the  old  cobbler  ? 
But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  mass  of  strangeness 
Feridoon  had  no  doubts  of  the  old  astrologer's 
honesty  of  purpose.  His  soul  rather  swelled  be 
neath  it,  for  he  imagined  that  he  could  trace  out 
in  all  some  reliance  that  was  to  be  placed  upon 
himself. 

While  the  youth  thus  pondered  with  himself 
his  guardian  entered  the  apartment,  and  after 
speaking  of  other  topics  as  a  sort  of  prelude,  he 
asked  what  had  been  the  business  of  the  astrolo 
ger.  At  first  the  youth  hesitated,  but  not  with 
doubt.  He  was  merely  collecting  his  thoughts, 
and  when  he  had  remembered  how  the  astrologer 
had  commenced  his  questions  he  went  on  and 


gave  Rustcm  a  clear  account  of  the  whole  con 
versation,  only  omitting  what  had  been  said  con 
cerning  the  cobbler.  That  part  of  the  business 
he  had  resolved  to  keep  to  himself,  not  from  any 
desire  to  deceive,  but  simply  because  there  pro 
mised  to  be  a  bit  of  romance  in  the  affair,  and  he 
chose  to  go  into  it  alone  and  free  from  overlook 
ing  and  espionage.  The  satrap  was  much  puz 
zled  with  Kobad's  intent,  but  he  contented  him 
self  with  thinking  that  he  only  meant  to  instruct 
the  youth  if  he  should  need  it. 

"  Did  he  not  ask  you  anything  concerning 
your  childhood  ?"  asked  Kustera,  uneasily. 

"Not  a  word." 

"  Strange — very  strange.  I  suppose  he  only 
means  to  give  to  you  instruction  if  you  need  it. 
And  yet  I  cannot  see  into  even  that/'  said  Rus- 
tem,  thoughtfully. 

Nor  did  Feridoon  see  into  it,  but  he  had  some 
ideas  which  he  did  not  speak — ideas  which  might 
have  made  Kustem  uneasy.  He  had  seen  enough 
of  existing  things  in  one  day  to  assure  him  that 
there  was  need  of ,  reform,  and  might  not  Kobad 
have  some  ideas  of  such  a  work  ?  and  might  not 
he  want  a  young  man  to  help  him  ?  At  any 
rate,  such  thoughts  floated  dimly  through  the 
youth's  brain,  but  of  course  they  were  as  shape 
less  as  the  mists  of  morning. 


20 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


After  nearly  two  hours  spent  in  conversation, 
the  satrap  withdrew,  and  shortly  afterwards  four 
of  Feridoon's  black  slaves  came  into  his  apart 
ment. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  the  youth,  as  they  stood 
gazing  upon  him. 

But  they  did  not  speak. 

"  What  do  you  wish  1"  repeated  their  master. 

"  You  will  pardon  us,  but  Clao  says  you  threw 
him  from  this  window  clear  to  the  middle  of 
yonder  lake.  Did  he  not  lie  to  us  1" 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Because  we  four  have  staked  a  daric  of  gold 
against  the  fourth  part  of  a  daric  from  him  that 
you  did  not  do  it." 

"  Do  you  think  Clao  would  lie  for  the  sake  of 
praising  me  V 

"We  feared  so." 

"  You  shall  see." 

As  Feridoon  spoke,  he  sprang  from  his  seat 
and  caught  the  heaviest  of  the  four  slaves  by  the 
girdle  and  the  thigh,  and  with  apparent  ease 
hurled  him  to  the  very  verge  of  the  further  side 
of  the  lake. 

"Now  what  think  you?"  asked  Feridoon, 
turning  to  the  other  three. 

But  they  said  nothing  :  they  stood  like  beings 
petrified.  At  length,  however,  they  fell  upon 
their  knees  and  bowed  till  their  foreheads  touched 
the  floor.  They  had  already  learned  to  love 
their  young  master  for  his  kindness  and  gentle 
ness,  but  now  they  worshipped  him.  He  had 
touched  a  place  in  their  homely  souls  that  held 
their  deepest  admiration.  Henceforth  the  twelve 
slaves  who  attended  upon  him  were  to  look  upon 
him  as  nothing  less  than  a  god. 

The  youth  dismissed  his  slaves,  after  having 
given  them  money  enough  to  pay  the  stake  they 
had  lost  through  his  means,  and  then  set  about 
his  own  affairs.  He  took  a  book  of  poems  and 
sat  down  to  read,  and  at  a  seasonable  hour  he 
retired. 

In  the  morning  he  arose  early  and  dressed 
himself,  not  gaudily,  but  well.  His  hair  he  sep 
arated  and  combed  out  until  the  flowing  ringlets 
glistened  like  jet,  and  his  skin  glowed  like  the 
rose  with  the  flush  of  pride  and  health.  He 
stood  before  his  polished  mirror  of  silver,  and  as 
he  gazed  upon  the  picture  of  himself  he  saw  be 
yond,  he  wondered  if  wickedness  and  evil  would 
make  him  look  like  those  youths  whom  he  had 
seen  in  attendance  upon  the  king.  He  had  just 
completed  his  toilet  when  half  a  dozen  of  his 
slaves  came  up.  They  knew  how  kind  he  was, 


and  it  seems  they  had  resolved  to  seek  permis 
sion  to  look  at  their  young  master's  arms. 

Feridoon  laughed  outright  as  they  made  their 
request,  and  unclasping  the  jewelled  band  that 
held  his  sleeve  at  the  wrist,  he  stripped  his  arm 
bare  to  the  shoulder.  The  slaves  gathered 
around,  and  looked  at  it,  and  then  they  looked 
upon  one  another  and  shook  their  heads.  They 
were  anatomists  enough  to  know  that  those  long, 
swelling  lines  of  muscles,  and  those  huge,  hard 
cords,  contained  the  secret  of  the  marvellous 
prowess  they  had  seen.  They  saw  that  where 
their  own  big,  brawny  arms  were  flat  or  indented, 
his  were  rounded  with  muscles.  They  finished 
their  examination  and  went  away  highly  pleased 
with  the  new  favor  that  had  been  granted  them. 

After  breakfast  Rustem  came  up  to  see  if  his 
son  would  attend  him  to  court,  but  Feridoon  told 
him  he  meant  to  take  a  stroll  about  the  city. 
The  satrap  made  no  Objections,  only  he  urged 
the  necessity  of  care  and  circumspection,  and 
then  left  the  youth  to  follow  such  course  as  he 
saw  fit,  not  forgetting  to  repeat  his  injunctions 
at  least  three  times  before  he  closed  the  door. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  Feridoon  left  his 
guardian's  palace,  and  with  a  moderate  step  he 
took  his  way  as  the  astrologer  had  directed.  At 
the  great  fountain  he  stopped  a  while  to  view  the 
crowds  of  people  who  were  assembled  about  the 
place,  and  some  of  their  remarks  gave  him  more 
insight  into  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the 
lower  classes  of  the  citizens  than  he  had  before 
learned  from  books  or  the  sayings  of  others. 
When  he  came  to  the  great  brazen  statue  of  Zal, 
he  turned  to  the  right,  and  before  him  he  saw  a 
long  narrow  street,  at  the  extremity  of  which  he 
could  distinguish  the  abrupt,  dark  face  of  the 
sculptured  rock.  Down  this  street  he  turned, 
and  ere  long  he  heard  the  notes  of  a  merry  song. 
The  words  struck  him  as  being  peculiar,  and  he 
stopped  to  listen. 

"  Like  the  bird  in  its  native  forest,  or  like  the  roe  upon 
the  bleak  mountain, 

Where  freedom  from  all  care  is  his,  and  where  joy  com- 
eth  with  each  morning : 

So  live  I  among  kings  and  princes,  myself  alone  to  fear, 
and  all  to  love. 

They  fear  all  things  seen,  and  love  nought  but  them 
selves. 

Ho,  ho, — how  much  happier,  then,  am  I  than  the  great 
crowned  ones  of  earth." 

Feridoon  approached  the  place  from  whence 
the  sound  proceeded,  and  he  found  a  cobbler 
seated  in  his  stall  at  work  upon  an  old  sandal. 
He  was  a  short,  stumpy  fellow,  with  grizzled 
gray  hair,  a  light  gray  eye,  a  round,  laughing 
face,  and  not  far  from  threescore  years  of  age. 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


21 


"  What  ho,  here,  master  cobbler,  you  make 
the. place  merry  wiih  your  music  and  your 
thoughts,"  uttered  Feridoon,  as  he  came  up. 

The  old  fellow  looked  up,  and  when  he  saw 
the  young  man's  costly  dress,  and  his  kingly 
bearing,  he  seemed  for  a  moment  disconcerted, 
but  he  quickly  regained  his  composure,  and  then 
he  replied : 

"  I  was  only  singing  to  pass  away  the  time, 
.sir." 

"  But  your  song  was  strange  to  me.  If  I 
might  believe  that,  you  are  the  happiest  man  in 
Persepolis." 

"No,  no.  Happier  than  kings  or  princes, 
said  I." 

"And  how  so?" 

"  Because  I  have  no  vexing  cares  upon  my 
mind." 

"  But  he  that  has  the  welfare  of  a  great  peo 
ple  upon  his  care,  and  labors  well  for  them,  even 
though  all  his  life  be  marked  with  labor,  yet  he 
must  b3  happy,  for  who  can  be  happier  than  he 
who  works  for  the  good  of  all  ?" 

"  O,  I  grant  ye  that,  young  sir." 

"  Then  is  not  our  king  happy  ?" 

"It  is  not  for  me  to  say."  . 

"But  you  have  spoken  in  your  song,  and  you 
said  that  you  were  happier  than  the  king. 
Explain." 

"  Nay,  sir.  'Tis  sedition — 'tis  rank  conspiracy 
to  speak  against  the  king." 

"  How  so  r 

"Because  he  punishes  it  as  such." 

"  Of  course  he  would  punish  the  man  who 
should  dare  to  speak  falsely  of  him  ;  but  surely 
he  would  not  punish  one  for  telling  the  truth ; 
so  let  us  hear  thy  answer.  Come." 

"Not  so,  master.  Even  should  I  tell  the 
truth,  and  it  wtre  hard  upon  our  king,  he  would 
make  me  taste  the  lash  most  freely." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  laughed  Feridoon.  "  Why, 
you  have  answered  me  more  plainly  than  I  had 
hoped." 

"  But  I  have  not  answered  thee  against- the 
king;  no,  I'll  swear  I  have  not." 

"  Bat  you  have,  old  father.  You  have  said 
he  would  whip  you  for  telling  the  truth.  What 
more  could  you  say  against  him  ?" 

"But  that  is  the  tru.h." 

"  Ha,  ha — arid  'tis  what  I  asked  you.  And 
now,  soberly,  if  such  is  the  king's  character,  then 
you  must  be  happier  than  he." 

"  You  are  not  a  spy,  sharp  sir?"  said  the  cob 
bler,  with  considerable  fear. 
2 


"  No,  no.  I  am  only  walking  for  pleasure 
and  instruction,  and  I  stopped  here,  hearing 
your  song,  and  liking  its  sentiment,  hoping  that 
I  might  rest  a  while  beneath  your  roof." 

"  Most  surely  you  shall.  Here,  upon  this 
stool  you  may  find  a  resting  place,  away  from 
the  sun  and  the  dust  " 

"  There  ?"  cried  Feridoon,  looking  upon  the 
dust  covered  seat  to  which  the  jolly  old  fellow 
had  pointed.  "  Why,  the  dust  is  already  there, 
and  the  sun  will  dart  in  there  like  fire  in  half 
an  hour.  Good  Kobad  told  me  you  had  better 
rest." 

"Kobad?"  exclaimed  the  cobbler,  dropping 
the  sandal. 

"  Ay.     Are  you  not  Zak  Turan  ?" 

"  Of  a  verity  I  am." 

"  Then  to  you  it  was  that  Kobad -sent  me." 

"Now  Ormuzd  be  my  guide.  Of  course  I 
knew  thee  not." 

"  And  do  you  know  me  now  ?" 

"  Only  that  you  are  the  offspring  of  Ormuzd,* 
and  fit  to  enter  where  you  please,"  continued  the 
old  man,  rising  from  his  seat  and  opening  the 
door  of  his  stall.  "  So  come  in  here,  and  follow 
me." 

Feridoon  entered  the  stall,  and  when  the  door 
was  closed,  the  cobbler  opened  the  way  to  -the 
dwelling,  which  was  in  the  rear,  the  stall  being 
only  a  sort  of  pen  built  out  upon  the  street,  and 
shielded  by  an  awning  of  net  work  and  straw. 
At  first  the  youth  found  himself  in  a  narrow, 
dark  hall  or  passage,  at  the  further  end  of  which 
he  saw  a  flight  of  stairs.  Up  these  he  was  led, 
and  after  passing  through  several  small  roome, 
which  contained  the  meanest  of  furniture,  hig 
guide  opened  a  door  which  led  to  an  apartment 
of  larger  dimensions,  and  furnished  well.  The 
next  apartment,  however,  was  still  more  sump 
tuously  furnished,  and  within  it  Feridoon  found 
two  females,  one  of  them  well  advanced  in 
years,  and  the  other  only  a  girl.  This  older  fe 
male  was  Zak  Turan's  wife,  and  her  name  was 
Rudabah.  She  was  taller  than  her  husband,  and 
though  a  good,  kind  woman,  yet  her  will  was 
law  in  the  cobbler's  dwelling. 

"Rudabah,"  said  Zak  Turan,  "this  is  the 
youth  of  whom  Kobad  spoke." 

The  wife  immediately  arose  and  bowed  very- 
low,  and  then,  without  a  word,  followed  her 
husband  from  the  apartment. 

*  The  ancient  Persians  believed  that  next  to  God  wer« 
two  great  spirits,  that  pervaded  the  universe  and  held  in 
fluence  over  mankind.  Ormuzd  was  the  good  spirit  and 
Ahriman  the  evil. 


22 


THE  KING  AND  GOBBLER 


Feridoon  was  much  surprised  at  this  move 
ment,  and  he  would  have  called  the  cobbler  back 
had  not  his  eyes  at  that  instant  rested  on  the 
face  of  the  girl  who  was  left  with  him.  She  had 
arisen  now,  and  was  standing  with  downcast 
eyes  before  the  young  man.  Her  form  was 
round  and  full,  with  a  medium  height ;  her  skin 
as  fair  as  the  pearl  of  Catifa,  and  the  color  of 
her  cheeks  blushing  like  the  new-blown  rose. 
Her  hair  was  a  dark  brown,  and  shone  with  the 
lustre  of  gold,  and  her  dark  blue  eyes  were  like 
the  morning  and  evening  stars.  Like  pearls 
themselves  gleamed  the  pure  white  teeth  that  lay 
half  hidden  behind  her  ruby  lips,  and  over  all 
her  face  was  thrown  the  charm  of  modesty  and 
virtuous  purity.  For  some  moments  Feridoon 
stood  perfectly  entranced,  and  his  heart  throbbed 
with  a  wild,  thrilling  emotion.  In  all  the  tales 
he  had  read  he  had  not  conceived  of  beauty  like 
this,  and  on  the  instant  was  his  heart  enchained. 

"  Lady,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  could  com 
mand  his  speech,  "  I  know  not  why  we  have 
thus  met,  or  whether  it  was  intended  that  this 
meeting  should  take  place.  I  was  bidden  by 
Kobad,  the  astrologer,  to  come  hither,  and  I 
obliged  him.  Further  than  that  he  told  me  not/' 

The  youth's  voice  was  as  sweet  as  the  murmur 
of  the  evening  zephyr,  and  the  maiden  listened 
with  rapture.  She  returned  his  glances,  and  the 
rose  upon  her  cheek  deepened,  and  her  swelling 
bosom  heaved  with  the  emotions  her  heart  had 
.  caught.  She  spoke,  and  her  voice  was  like  the 
soft,  sweet  notes  of  the  lute,  or  like  the  tones 
of  augels  when  they  visit  us  in  our  dreams. 

"  To  me,  also,  did  the  astrologer  speak,  and 
he  warned  me  of  your  coming.  He  told  me  to 
receive  you  and  entertain  you,  and  to  fear  no 
evil  in  your  presence.  He  gave  me  no  reason, 
:nor  did  he  state  another  wish." 

"  Then,"  said  Feridoon,  drawing  nearer,  "  our 
fates  may  run  together.  Perhaps  Kobad  has 
looked  into  the  future  and  seen  that  our  des 
tinies  commingle,  and  thus  would  he  bring  us 
.together  that  we  may  know  each  other." 

The  youth  raised  the  maiden's  hand  to  his 
lips  and  kissed  it,  and  then  he  led  her  to  a  ^eat 
and  reclined  beside  her.  But  she  answered  him 
not  yet. 

"  May  I  know,  lady,  how  you  are  called  by 
those  who  bear  you  company  '{" 

"  My  name  is  Zillah." 

"  And  mine  is  Feridoon." 

"  The  son  of  the  satrap  Rustem  V  asked  Zil 
lah,  quickly. 


"Yes — I  am  so  called.  And  you — whose 
child  ?" 

"  Zak  Turan  is  my  father." 

"  Blessed  by  thee  must  be  the  parent  who 
bare  thee,  and  blessed  am  I  in  the  pleasure  of 
knowing  thee.  Thou  art  as  a  sun  just  arisen 
upon  my  way,  or  like  a  full  moon  come  to  illu 
mine  the  night  of  my  life.  I  would  know  thee 
fully,  thy  mind,  thy  soul,  thy  thoughts  and  thy 
wishes." 

"  My  mind,"  answered  Z:llah,  with  a  smile, 
"  is  as  a  man  seeking  after  riches  with  which  to 
bless  himself  and  those  dependent  upon  him. 
My  soul  is  like  unto  the  chest  within  which  that 
man  shall  put  those  nobler  jewels  that  are  of 
the  most  value.  My  thoughts  are  like  the  heav 
ens — sometimes  clouded  with  passing  griefs,  but 
with  light  and  joy  still  resting  there,  like  the 
sun  and  moon  and  stars,  albeit  the  clouds  are 
sometimes  flitting  before  them.  My  wishes  are 
like  the  sands  of  the  desert — changing,  as  differ 
ent  winds  sweep  across  them,  but  yet  wandering 
not  from  their  parent  bosom." 

If  Feridoon  was  charmed  when  he  beheld  the 
outward  beauties  of  the  maiden,  he  was  more 
charmed  now,  and  her  eyes  drooped  again  when 
she  saw  how  earnest  and  ardent  was  his  gaze. 
But  the  silence  lasted  not  long.  The  youth  went 
on  with  the  conversation,  and  he  found  that  his 
companion  excelled  all  that  he  had  ever  read  of 
in  woman.  Her  wit  was  as  sharp  as  a  sword, 
and  yet  as  pure  and  gentle  as  a  zephyr.  Her 
thoughts  were  noble  and  sound,  her  ideas  al 
ways  to  the  point,  and  her  knowledge  bounded 
only  by  the  reach  of  human  ken. 

"  Surely,"  said  Feridoon,  at  the  end  of  the 
fiftt  hour,  "  your  mind  is  a  rich  store-house  of 
jewels  and  gold  of  thought." 

"Nay,  nay,  Feridoon,"  she  replied,  with  a 
sweet  smile.  "  You  must  not  flatter  ;  for  sure 
ly  I  have  learned  of  thee,  and  from  thy  won 
drous  knowledge  I  know  that  I  may  learn  much 
more.  True,  I  have  had  a  most  profound  teach 
er,  for  Kobad  himself  has  taught  me ;  but  my 
discernment  is  not  like  yours.  I  am  weaker  in 
thought  and  not  so  powerful  in  logic." 

"  Then  the  astrologer  has  taught  the'e  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  for  the  past  fuur  years  he  has  been 
my  tutor." 

"  And  I  must  ask  thee  still  another  question," 
resumed  Feridoon,  gazing  softly  into  the  maid 
en's  face.  "  Has  thy  heart  rested  in  love  upon 
any  of  my  sex  V 

"  My  father,  surely,  I  love." 


THE      ING   AND   COBBLER. 


23 


"  Most  truly.    But  any  other  ?" 

"  And  my  good  teacher." 

"  Ay,  of  course ;  but  is  there  another  ?" 

"An  hour  since  I  should  have  answered  thee 
nay." 

"And  now?" 

"  I  must  confess  that  my  heart  has  flown  to 
thee." 

"Blessed  being,"  cried  the  youth,  drawing 
Zillah  upon  his  bosom,  "  you  have  found  one 
who  can  love  thee  with  his  whole  soul  and  life. 
Let  our  loves  be  known  to  God,  and  let  our 
hearts  know  that  in  the  love  they  give  they  have 
nothing  lost.  Surely  Kobad  would  not  have 
sent  me  hither  but  for  this." 

"  I  do  not  think  the  good  astrologer  would 
have  been  mistaken  in  his  purpose,"  murmured 
Zillah.  "  When  he  first  told  me  that  he  should 
send  a  youth  to  visit  me,  and  bade  me  entertain 
him,  I  obeyed  because  it  was  my  duty,  but  I 
could  have  wished  that  he  had  chosen  a  female 
for  my  companion.  So  I  dreaded  the  coming 
of  the  youth — and  yet  I  ought  not  so  to  have 
done,  for  I  should  have  known  that  Kobad 
would  have  done  nothing  concerning  me  but  for 
my  good.  Yet  was  I  in  dread  of  your  coming, 
and  when  I  saw  my  father  enter,  and  I  knew 
that  the  youth  was  following  him,  my  heart  was 
pained.  I  dared  not  look  up  till  you  spoke. 
But  when  I  heard  your  voice,  and  when  I  saw 
your  face,  there  was  but  one  pang  left  I  won 
dered  if  you  had  ever  known  woman  and 
loved." 

"  And  I  should  have  told  you  that  until  that 
moment  my  eyes  had  never  rested  upon  the  face 
of  a  female  with  whom  I  had  spoken.  Strange 
as  it  may  seem  to  you,  it  is  a  truth  that  since 
infancy,  you  are  the  first  female  with  whom  I 
•foave  spoken." 


"  Then  joy  is  mine,"  murmured  the  beautiful 
girl,  and  as  she  spoke,  she  pillowed  her  head 
on  her  lover's  bosom  and  embraced  him  without 
fear  of  harm.  She  was  happy  now,  and  Feridoon 
was  happy  as  she. 

The  hours  passed  away,  but  they  heeded  not 
their  flight.  Noon  passed,  but  they  knew  it  not. 
The  afternoon  crept  slowly  on,  and  all  the  while 
the  lovers  sat  buried  in  the  thoughts  and  feelings 
that  had  so  suddenly  and  strangely  sprung  into 
life  in  their  bosoms.  It  was  not  until  the  light 
of  day  began  to  grow  dim  that  Feridoon  thought 
of  his  home.  He  started  up  and  gazed  out  upon 
the  distant  horizon,  and  he  knew  that  night  was 
at  hand. 

"  By  my  life,"  he  uttered,  "I  dreamed  not  of 
this.  See>  Zillah,  the  day  is  gone  !" 

"  The  first  day  of  our  love,"  answered  the 
maiden,  with  beaming  eyes.  "  O,  how  blessed !" 

"Ay,"  responded  Feridoon,  "it  is  doubly 
blessed,  for  it  has  not  only  given  us  joy,  but  it 
has  opened  to  us  more  treasures  of  the  mind 
than  we  had  before  possessed.  O,  it  is  our  first 
day  of  love,  but  not  our  last.  It  is  but  the 
commencement  of  a  long  life  of  sweeter,  holier 
love  than  our  hearts  have  before  conceived  of. 
Is  it  not  so  ?" 

"  Most  truly,"  answered  Zillah. 

The  lovers  embraced  once  more,  and  when 
they  had  pledged  their  loves  and  asked  God  te 
bless  them,  the  youth  turned  away. 

"  I  shall  come  again  soon,"  he  said,  ere  he 
reached  the  door.  "  I  cannot  remain  long 
away." 

Zillah  smiled  as  he  spoke,  and  then  Feridoon 
turned  away.  He  went  at  once  to  the  street  by 
a  shorter  way  than  that  by  which  he  had  come, 
and  soon  he  was  on  his  way  towards  his  palace 
home. 


CHAPTER  V. 


HOW   SEVEN   MEN  PERFORMED  A   MISSION   FOB   THE   KING. 


FOR  a  long  time  after  Feridoon  had  gone,  did 
Zillah  remain  alone  in  her  apartment.  Her 
head  was  not  turned  nor  were  her  thoughts  now 
very  wild  or  strange.  Her  love  for  the  youth 
with  whom  she  had  just  parted  was  already  of 
that  deep,  fervent  character  which  takes  the 
whole  soul  into  its  own  mould,  and  reason  and 
judgment  were  both  hers  still.  There  was  no 
mock  modesty  in  those  long  gone  ages  among  the 
pure  ones — none  of  that  assumed  distance  that 
marks  the  movement  of  those  who  would  appear 
what  they  are  not,  but  truth  and  virtue  went 
hand  in  hand,  and  right  was  never  hidden.  If 
a  certain  act  was  just  and  right,  it  was  enough. 

When  the  darkness  fairly  settled  down  upon 
the  great  city,  Zillah  went  down  to  the  lower 
sitting-room,  where  the  family  usually  spent 
their  evenings,  and  there  she  found  her  father 
and  mother.  The  latter  asked  her  immediately 
what  had  passed  between  the  youth  and  herself, 
and  after  a  moment's  reflection,  she  related  the 
substance  of  what  had  been  said,  leaving  out  all 
those  sweet  sentences  wbich  only  lovers  can  un 
derstand.  When  she  had  concluded,  the  old 
lady  looked  very  solemn,  and  Zak  Turan  laugh 
ed  outright,  while  Zillah  blushed  and  hung  down 
her  head. 

"I  hope  Kobad  has  heen  wise  in  this,"  said 
Budabah,  "  for  I  should  grieve  most  sorely 
should  evil  fall  upon  our  child." 


"  Evil  ?"  uttered  the  cobbler,  with  a  meny 
twinkle  of  the  eye.  "  How  can  evil  come  of 
true  love  ?" 

"  Look  upon  me  and  see,"  quickly  answered 
his  wife.  "  See  to  what  the  love  for  you  has 
brought  me." 

"  That  was  not  love.  It  was  hate  that  made 
you  marry  me.  You  hated  me,  and  so  you  be 
came  my  wife  to  spite  me.  But  God  knows  I 
bear  up  well  under  the  affliction." 

"  And  why  should  you  not,  seeing  that  you 
have  such  afflicted  company  ?  If  you  are  afflict 
ed,  what  am  I  ?  My  life  !  what  a  thing  I  have 
for  a  husband." 

"  The  merriest  man  in  all  Persepolis." 

"  The  most  foolish." 

"  In  marrying  you,  I  admit ;  but  I  have  long 
since  repented  of  that."  Ai:d  as  Zak  Turan 
thus  spoke,  he  laughed  so  loud  and  long  that 
they  did  not  hear  the  rap  which  came  upon  the 
door. 

"But  tell  me,"  said  Zillah,  "  why  the  astrol 
oger  should  have  sent  the  youth  hither  1" 

"  I  know  not,  unless  it  was  that  you  might 
fall  in  love  with  each  other,"  answered  the 
cobbler. 

"  So  it  must  have  been,"  added  the  wife. 
"  But  what  does  he  mean  by  that  ?" 

"We  have  no  business  to  question  his  mo 
tives,"  returned  Zak  Turan.  And  then  moving 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


25 


nearer  to  his  wife's  side,  he  whispered  so  that  the 
maiden  could  not  hear,  "  We  must  not  speak  of 
this  before  Zillah." 

For  once  Rudabah  acknowledged  the  justice 
of  her  husband's  remark,  and  just  as  she  gave 
an  affirmative  nod  of  the  head,  they  heard  a  loud 
knock  upon  the  door.  The  cobbler  hastened  to 
open  it,  and  when  he  had  done  so,  three  men 
entered.  They  seemed  to  be  travellers,  and  their 
garments  were  very  dusty. 

"  Good  sir,"  spoke  the  eldest  of  the  strangers, 
"  we  are  travellers,  and  strangers  in  this  great 
city.  We  saw  your  light  shine  through  the 
chinks  of  your  door,  and  hearing  your  loud 
laugh  we  thought  there  must  be  good  cheer 
within." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  such  as  I  have,"  re 
turned  Zak  Turan  :  "  but  I  fear  me  you  will 
find  my  cheer  anything  but  acceptable.  I  laugh 
because  of  my  light  heart  and  my  angel  wife — 
not  from  the  quality  of  my  wine." 

Rudabah  was  still  sitting  by  her  husband's 
side,  and  in  payment  of  the  words  he  had  just 
spoken,  she  pinched  him  severely  upon  the  neck, 
so  that  he  involuntarily  cried  out  with  pain ;  but 
he  dared  not  resent  it,  for  he  knew  that  in  a 
pitched  battle  he  should  come  out  second  best. 
However,  the  affair  passed  off,  and  while  his 
wife  went  to  fetch  the  wine,  the  cobbler  made  a 
sign  for  his  daughter  to  leave  the  room.  Zillah 
accordingly  arose  and  was  proceeding  towards 
the  door,  when  one  of  the  strangers  called  her 
back. 

"  Surely,"  said  he,  "  you  will  not  deprive  us 
of  the  light  of  your  dwelling  ?" 
•  "  If  you  allude  to  my  child—" 

"  I  allude  to  this  lovely  damsel  who  would 
flee  from  us,"  broke  in  the  guest. 

"  She  is  not  used  to  strangers,"  said  Zak  Tu 
ran,  "  and  would  be  more  easy  in  her  own  apart 
ments,  where  she  has  work  to  do." 

"  I  know  not  what  may  be  your  habits  here," 
resumed  the  stranger,  "  but  in  my  own  land  we 
deem  it  an  insult  for  a  female  to  retire  from 
before  visitors.  Let  her  remain,  I  pray  you, 
for  thereby  my  pleasure  will  be  much  enhanced." 

Now  it  had  always  been  the  custom  of  Zak 
Turan,  since  his  daughter  had  grown  up  to  wo 
manhood,  to  have  her  withdraw  before  visitors 
entered,  but  now  this  had  been  prevented  by  the 
suddenness  of  their  entrance.  Ha  had  done 
this  to  protect  his  child  from  harm,  for  he  knew 
she  was  very  beautiful,  and  that  many  would 
wish  to  possess  her  charms.  However,  seeing 


that  his  present  guests  were  strangers,  he  sup 
posed  that  no  harm  could  ensue,  so  he  bade 
Zillah  be  seated  again. 

"  She  is  your  own  child,  then  V  said  the 
spokesman  of  the  travelling  trio. 

"  She  is,"  was  the  cobbler's  answer. 

"  Surely  God  has  blessed  you." 

"  So  I  feel.  But  here  is  my  wine.  It  is  not 
the  best,  nor  is  it  the  worst.  And  here  is  bread 
and  meat." 

The  strangers  helped  themselves  to  the  wine 
and  they  praised  is  highly;  and  they  did  the 
same  by  the  bread.  But  while  they  ate  and 
drank,  the  one  who  had  spoken  so  freely  kept 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  Zillah  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  time.  She  noticed  it,  and  it  made  her  feel 
uneasy.  There  was  a  strange  power  in  the  eye 
of  the  stranger  that  she  could  not  define,  but 
which  yet  filled  her  with  dread.  After  a  while 
the  traveller  moved  away  from  the  table  and 
drew  his  seat  nearer  to  the  maiden  and  began  to 
converse  with  her.  He  proved  himself  to  be  a 
man  of  much  information,  and  he  talked  to  her 
of  foreign  lands  and  foreign  manners.  Yet  she 
could  see  that  same  light  in  his  dark,  gleaming 
eyes  which  she  did  not  like.  She  had  fiom  the 
first  felt  a  secret  dread  of  the  man,  and  all  his 
fine  talk  could  not  banish  it. 

At  length  the  strangers  arose,  and  having 
thanked  the  host  for  his  kindness,  they  departed. 
As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Zillah  told  her  father 
that  she  did  not  like  the  looks  of  them,  and  he 
admitted  the  truth  of  the  impression,  but  appre 
hended  no  danger. 

"Let  the  strangers  pass,"  said  Rudabah,  "they 
may  be  as  bad  as  man  can  be,  and  yet  they  would 
be  gods  compared  with  thee,  thou  hateful,  abom 
inable,  wicked,  spiteful,  odious,  repulsive,  shock 
ing,  loathsome,  disgusting  afrite." 

"  Mercy  on  me,  my  dear  wife,  what  can  you 
mean  V 

"  Didn't  you  tell  those  men  I  was  your  angel 
wife  V 

"Surely  I  did." 

"  And  is  not  that  enough  ?" 

"  No.  I  should  have  told  them  that  you  were 
doubly  my  angel — that  you  were  heaven  itself." 

"  And  why  didn't  you  ?" 

"  Because  you  were  present,  and  while  your 
face  was  here  to  give  the  lie  to  any  such  remark, 
I  thought  it  not  worth  while  to  make  it.  Upon 
my  life,  I  doubt  me  if  they  believed  what  I  did 
say  in  your  favor." 

Rudabah  gave  in  this  time,  but  well  did  the 


26 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


cobbler  know  that  he  should  have  to  pay  dearly 
for  his  victory  at  some  future  time. 

In  the  midst  of  this  domestic  squall,  Zillah 
retired  to  her  own  apartment,  and  there  she  lay 
down  to  dream  of  the  events  of  the  day ;  for 
surely  it  had  been  an  eventful  day  for  her.  Her 
heart  had  been  opened  for  the  first  time  with 
that  pure  and  holy  love  which  first  burst  upon 
Adam  after  his  sleep,  and  she  felt  her  whole 
soul  warmed  and  lighted  by  the  brightly  burning 
torch.  But  all  the  dreams  she  had  that  night 
were  not  pleasant  ones.  She  had  some  that 
were  dark  and  frightful,  and  from  which  she 
awoke  with  a  cry  of  terror.  But  she  did  not 
believe  that  they  meant  anything.  She  had  often 
had  bad  dreams,  and  when  the  morning  came 
and  she  tried  to  reason  upon  it,  she  concluded 
that  those  bad  dreams — so  much  worse  than  any 
she  had  ever  before  had,  were  the  result  of  the 
excitement  to  which  her  mind  had  been  subjected. 
'Of  course,  there  could  be  no  hidden  truth  in 
them. 

The  forenoon  of  the  following  day  had  passed 
half  away.  Zak  Turan  was  at  work  in  his  stall, 
when  suddenly  he  was  aroused  by  the  appear 
ance  of  six  of  the  royal  slaves  accompanied  by 
an  officer.  The  slaves  bore  a  covered  chair  with 
them,  and  when  they  came  in  front  of  the  stall 
they  set  it  down. 

"  Is  this  the  dwelling  of  Zak  Turan,  the  cob 
bler  ?"  asked  the  officer. 

"  It  is,"  answered  our  friend. 

"  Then  we  have  a  message  from  the  king." 

"  From  the  king  !"  uttered  the  cobbler,  whose 
first  thought  was  of  the  language  he  had  used  the 
day  before,  and  of  consequent  imprisonment  and 
whipping. 

"  Ay.     You  have  a  daughter  V 

Now  the  old  man  trembled  with  a  worse  fear 
still.  "  I  have  a  daughter,"  he  said. 

"  So  the  king  is  aware,  and  we  have  been  sent 
to  bring  her  to  him.  So  show  us  the  way  at 
once." 

The  poor  fellow  knew  not  what  to  say.  His 
soul  was  torn  by  the  most  fearful  doubts,  and 
his  knees  shook  beneath  him. 

"  Are  you  going  to  obey '?"  cried  the  officer,  in 
a  rage. 

It  was  a  serious  thing  to  disobey  an  officer 
from  the  king,  and  Zak  Turan  knew  that  diso 
bedience  would  be  of  no  avail,  even  should  he 
persist  in  it,  for  seven  stout  men  were  more  than 
he  could  cope  with,  even  setting  aside  the  thou 
sands  of  soldiers  who  could  be  called  upon  to 


come  down  upon  him.  So  he  came  out  from  his 
stall  and  led  the  way  round  to  the  gate  that  led 
through  the  little  garden,  that  being  the  most 
direct  way  to  the  part  of  the  dwelling  the  family 
usually  occupied. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  just  as  the  slaves 
were  turning  the  angle  of  the  garden  wall,  Feri- 
doon  came  in  sight  of  the  stall,  and  when  he 
came  up  he  entered  it,  and  not  finding  the  cob 
bler  there  he  passed  in  by  the  same  way  he  had 
ntered  the  day  before,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
the  apartments  of  Zillah. 

Meanwhile  Zak  Turan,  followed  by  the  officer 
and  the  slaves,  had  entered  the  lower  part  of  the 
house,  and  there  they  found  Zillah  in  company 
with  her  mother.  The  maiden  started  upon  be 
holding  the  stout  slaves,  for  so  had  commenced 
one  of  the  frightful  dreams  she  had  had  during 
the  night. 

"  Ha !"  uttered  the  officer,  as  his  gaze  rested 
upon  Zillah,  "  it  needs  no  great  exercise  of  wit 
to  tell  that  this  is  the  girl  which  has  so  excited 
the  love  of  our  king.  You  may  consider  your 
self  one  of  the  fortunate  ones  of  the  kingdom, 
fair  lady,  for  the  king  loves  you." 

"  Loves  me !  The  king  loves  me  !"  gasped  Zil 
lah,  seizing  hold  upon  the  edge  of  the  table  for 
support.  "  You  speak  in  riddles." 

".Not  at  all.  His  majesty — whom  may  God 
protect — has  seen  you,  and  loved  you,  and  now 
he  would  have  you  for  his  own.  He  bade  me 
tell  you  that  you  should  be  placed  among  his 
wives,  and  be  the  most  favored  of  them  all." 

"  Impossible !"  cried  the  frightened  girl.  "  The 
king  cannot  have  seen  me.  You  are  mistaken. 
It  is  some  one  else  that  he  means.  I  have  not 
been  out  for  a  long  while." 

"  You  mistake.  Did  not  three  travellers  stop 
here  last  night  V 

"  Yes,"  whispered  Zillah,  through  whose  mind 
the  truth  now  flashed  at  once. 

"  Ay — and  one  of  them  was  the  king  himself. 
He  saw  you  and  conversed  with  you,  and  his 
heart  is  wholly  yours." 

"But  he  surely  does  not  mean — " 

Thus  far  the  maiden  spoke,  but  she  could 
speak  no  more  then.  The  memory  of  a  terrible 
dream  came  crashing  upon  her,  and  her  head 
became  dizzy  and  her  heart  faint.  She  sunk 
down  upon  a  seat  and  clasped  her  hands  over 
her  eyes. 

"  Surely,"  spoke  Zak  Turan,  as  he  saw  this, 
"you  will  not  rob  me  of  my  child  1" 

"  Out  upon  thee  for  a  treasonable  dog !"  cried 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


27 


the  officer,  in  high  wrath.  "  Does  not  the  king 
take  whom  he  pleases  to  wife  ?  And  shall  you 
be  exempt  from  a  royal  right  which  is  as  old  as 
the  world  itself?  I  have  come  from  the  king, 
and  woe  will  be  upon  you  if  you  give  not  up 
your  child  readily." 

"  I  shall  not  resist/'  uttered  the  old  man . 

"  I  do  not  think  you  will,"  responded  the  offi 
cer,  with  a  wicked  smile.  "  But  honestly,  I  am 
surprised  at  this.  Why,  I  had  thought  that  the 
child  of  a  poor  cobbler  like  yourself,  would  have 
been  overjoyed  to  become  the  favorite  of  a  pow 
erful  king." 

"  Hold,  sir  !"  cried  Zillah,  finding  her  tongue 
now.  "  We  are  poor  in  the  goods  which  mer 
chants  have,  but  we  are  rich  in  the  gifts  of  Heav 
en.  Rob  me  of  my  virtue,  and  I  am  poor  in 
deed'  Rob  these  people  of  their  child,  and 
they,  too,  will  know  what  poverty  is." 

"Do  not  talk  of  virtue!"  cried  the  officer. 
"  What  more  virtuous  than  a  king's  wife  ?" 

"  What  more  base  than  she  who  ministers 
solely  to  a  king's  base  passions  ?"  she  cried. 

"'Tis  not  the  king's  passions  which  are  so 
base — 'tis  his  love  that  calls  you." 

"  O,  talk  not  to  me  of  a  king's  love,  when  it 
changes  as  does  the  wind  that  blows.  The  true 
love  of  the  heart  is  not  a  thing  that  can  be  put 
off  at  every  pretty  face  that  one  sees.  I  tell  thee, 
officer,  'tis  only  a  passion  most  base  that  moves 
the  heart  of  the  king  towards  me.  Let  him  take 
me  now,  and  in  one  short  month  he  will  tire  of 
me,  and  find  another." 

"Very  prettily  spoken,"  returned  the  officer, 
"but  you  had  better  save  your  wit  for  the  king. 
Come,  we  have  not  time  to  waste." 

"  You  will  not  take  me  away  ?" 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  force  me  to  take  you. 
The  king  will  like  you  much  better  if  he  knows 
that  you  came  of  your  own  free  will." 

"As  such  I  will  never  go !"  cried  Zillah,  sink 
ing  once  more  into  her  seat,  and  bowing  her 
head  upon  the  table. 

"  Then  I  must  take  you,  that's  all,"  answered 
the  officer,  somewhat  angrily. 

At  this  moment  Zak  Turan  mustered  up 
courage  enough  to  beg  that  his  child  might  be 
spared;  but  he  was  spurned  by  the  officer  as 
though  he  had  been  a  dog. 

"  Out  upon  thee,  thou  cobbling  toad  !"  the 
lieutenant  exclaimed.  "By  the  host  of  Ahri- 
man,  I'll  have  thee  tied  to  the  post  of  thine  own 
door,  and  send  the  very  boys  to  whip  you  if 
you  speak  thus  again." 


The  poor  man  shrank  back,  for  he  knew  full 
well  that  he  could  do  nothing  for  his  fair  child. 
He  knew  that  the  king  could  take  for  his  wife 
whom  he  pleased,  and  that  were  he  even  to  de 
mand  the  daughters  of  all  the  satraps  in  the  king 
dom,  he  could  have  them  all.  How,  then,  should 
he,  a  poor  cobbler,  escape  ? 

The  officer  went  up  and  took  hold  of  Zillah, 
and  lifted  her  to  her  feet,  and  then  he  called  for 
the  slaves  to  come  and  take  her  out.  They  had 
just  lifted  her  from  her  feet  when  the  inner  door 
opened,  and  Feridoon  entered  the  apartment. 

"  Where  is  Zillah  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Feridoon  !  Feridoon !"  cried  the  maiden. 
"  0,  save  me  !  save  me !" 

As  she  thus  cried,  she  made  one  powerful 
effort  and  broke  from  the  grasp  of  those  who  held 
her,  and  sprang  to  the  side  of  her  lover. 

"  What  is  it  all  1"  the  young  man  asked,  in 
blank  surprise,  but  not  forgetting  to  wind  his 
arm  about  the  form  of  her  he  loved. 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke.  The  officer  had 
never  seen  Feridoon  before,  and  he  knew  not 
who  he  was,  though  all  six  of  the  slaves  knew 
him  from  having  seen  him  at  the  royal  palace 
with  the  satrap.  The  officer  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Young  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  hope  you  will  not 
deem  it  prudent  to  interfere  with  our  business." 

"  First  let  me  know  what  your  business  is," 
retorted  our  hero. 

"  We  come  on  business  from  the  king." 

"  But  what  has  this  maiden  to  do  with  that 
business  ?" 

"  Everything.  She  is  to  be  the  king's  wife, 
and  we  are  now  come  to  carry  her  to  him." 

"Zillah,"  said  the  youth,  turning  his  gaze 
upon  his  beloved,  "  explain  this  to  me." 

"  Last  night,  after  you  had  gone,"  commenced 
the  fair  girl,  seeming  to  place  a  strange  confi 
dence  in  the  power  of  her  lover  to  save  her, 
"  three  men  came  here  and  spent  the  evening, 
and  when  I  would  have  withdrawn  from  the 
room,  one  of  them  detained  me,  and  afterwards 
he  talked  with  me.  It  now  seems  that  that  man 
was  the  king  in  disguise.  He  foil  in  love  with 
my  face,  and  now  he  sends  these  men  to  fetch 
me  to  him." 

«  Q_and  is  that  all?"  uttered  the  youth,  after 
he  had  heard  the  story.  And  then  turning  to 
the  officer,  he  said  :  "  I  am  sorry  the  king  should 
have  bestowed  his  affection  where  it  cannot  be 
returned.  But  you  will  inform  his  majesty  that 
Zillah  is  already  beloved  by  another — by  one  who 
loved  her  ere  the  king  saw  her,  and  by  one  whom 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


she  loves  in  return.  Of  course  when  you  explain 
this  to  the  king,  he  will  rest  satisfied." 

"  He  will  be  satisfied  when  he  holds  the  maid 
en  in  his  possession,  and  not  till  then,"  returned 
the  officer.  He  spoke  quite  moderately,  for  he 
was  evidently  charmed  by  the  youth's  beauty 
and  melody  of  speech. 

"  But  you  see  that  such  satisfaction  cannot  be 
his,"  promptly  responded  Feridoon. 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  mean  to  resist  the  king's 
orders,  sfrr  ?" 

"  Resist,  say  you  ?  Let  me  rather  hope  that 
you  will  urge  your  suit  no  farther  after  the  ex 
planation  I  have  made." 

"  This  is  fruitless  talk.  You  know  the  royal 
will,  and  I  am  forced  to  obey  it.  You  will  resist 
it  at  your  peril.  Come,  lady,  your  kingly  lover 
waits  for  you." 

As  the  officer  thus  spoke,  he  advanced  and 
seized  Zillah  by  the  arm,  but  hardly  had  he 
done  so  when  Feridoon  laid  his  hand  upon  him, 
and  hurled  him  across  the  room.  First,  the 
officer  was  stunned — and  second,  he  was  amazed. 

"Did  you  understand  what  I  said"?"  asked 
Feridoon,  as  soon  as  he  saw  that  the  lieutenant 
was  gazing  upon  him. 

"  It  was  you  who  must  have  misunderstood," 
gasped  the  officer. 

"  Nay— not  so.  I  told  thee  this  maiden  was 
my  affianced  bride,  for  so  she  is — :and  so  she  was 
ere  the  king  saw  her.  If,  under  those  circum 
stances,  the  king  persists  in  his  will,  then  he  does 
so  against  every  law  of  right  and  justice,  and 
with  God  for  my  hope,  and  right  and  justice  for 
my  armor,  I  will  face  every  dastard  king  in  the 
world.  So  you  may  go  and  tell  your  royal 
master." 

There  was  something  so  bold,  so  noble,  so 
really  gigantic  and  sublime  in  the  look,  the  tone, 
and  the  bearing  of  the  youth,  that  the  officer 
ihrank  away.  But  he  happened  to  remember 
that  there  was  royal  wrath  at  home,  and  he 
started  forward  once  more,  though  not  so  far  as 
he  did  before. 

"  Slaves  !"  he  cried,  turning  to  the  six  stout 
fellows  who  attended  him,  "  take  that  girl  and 
bear  her  out  to  the  chair.  Be  quick." 

Those  were  men  whose  duty  never  called  upon 
them  to  think.  They  only  had  to  obey,  and  as 
their  commander  spoke,  they  advanced  in  a 
body  towards  where  the  youth  and  maiden  stood. 

"  Back  !"  uttered  Feridoon.  "  Lay  a  hand 
upon  this  girl,  and  you — " 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  the  slaves 


had  already  advanced,  and  were  upon  the  point 
of  putting  their  order  into  execution.  By  a 
simple  movement,  Feridoon  placed  Zillah  behind 
him,  and  then  he  seized  the  foremost  slave  by 
the  girdle  and  the  throat,  and  lifting  him  clear  of 
the  floor,  he  ordered  Rudabah  to  open  the  outer 
door.  The  indignant  wife  and  mother  hesitated 
not  an  instant,  and  as  soon  as  the  door  was 
opened  the  youth  hurled  the  slave  out  into  the 
garden.  On  the  next  instant  he  seized  another, 
and  hurled  him  after  the  first,  and  it  was  not 
until  three  of  them  was  thus  disposed  of  that  the 
officer  could  recover  his  presence  of  mind  suffi 
cient  to  enable  him  to  draw  his  sword  ;  but  now, 
when  he  had  seen  his  third  man  thus  hurled  out 
of  the  house,  and  the  prospect  being  apparent  of 
himself  soon  following,  he  not  only  drew  his  own 
sword,  but  he  ordered  his  three  remaining  fol 
lowers  to  do  the  same. 

'•  Ha  !"  uttered  Feridoon,  as  he  saw  the  move 
ment.  "  Fear  not,"  he  softly  whispered  to  his 
beloved.  "  No  blood  shall  be  shed." 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  his  own  sword,  a  wea 
pon  which  he  had  selected  from  among  more 
than  three  thousand  which  his  foster-father  had 
brought  him,  and  moved  towards  the  officer. 
The  latter  placed  himself  upon  the  most  approv 
ed  guard,  but  with  one  quick,  resistless  blow 
Feridoon  severed  his  sword  in  twain.  Then  he 
seized  the  fellow  by  the  neck,  and  with  one 
effort,  sent  him  headlong  into  the  garden. 

"  Now  prepare  to  die,  dogs !"  the  hero  shouted, 
at  the  same  time  raising  his  sword.  The  move 
ment  had  just  the  effect  he  had  anticipated,  for 
the  three  remaining  slaves  sank  down  upon  their 
knees  and  begged  for  mercy. 

"  Then  get  you  gone  !"  our  hero  exclaimed. 

The  frightened  slaves  scrambled  to  their  feet, 
and  with  quick  movements  made  their  way  into  the 
garden,  where  their  companions  were  just  climb 
ing  to  their  feet  and  rubbing  their  bruises, 
Feridoon  followed  them  out,  and  at  another  or 
der  from  him  they  scampered  into  the  street,  one 
of  them,  however,  crawling  upon  his  hands  and 
knees.  As  soon  as  they  were  gone  the  youth 
closed  the  gat?,  and  then  returned  to  the  house. 

"  Now,  sweet  one,  you  are  safe,"  he  uttered, 
as  he  clasped  the  still  trembling  girl  to  his  bo 
som.  "  By  my  life,  no  unholy  king  can  gloat 
his  passions  upon  the  being  of  my  love.  O,  I 
would  slay  every  monarch  on  earth  first,  and 
then  turn  to  God  and  the  people  for  their  ap 
proval." 

"  Holy  angels  !"  ejaculated  the  poor  cobbler, 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


29 


just  beginning  to  recover  himself,  "  what  sort  of 
arms  have  you  got  ?  My  life  of  lives,  how  you 
did  throw  'em  about— just  as  I  would  flies,  or 
spiders,  or  pebbles.  Ormuzd  protect  us  !  How 
did  you  do  it  V 

"  Just  as  you  saw.  But  why  do  you  tremble, 
Ziilah?" 

"  Alas,  I  tremble  now  for  you." 

"  For  me  ?" 

"  Yes.  Those  men  will  return  to  the  king, 
and  they  will  tell  him  all  that  has  transpired, 
and  then  he  will  send  men  enough  to  take  you, 
and  he  will  put  you  to  death  !" 

"  But  he  has  not  slaves  enough  to  take  me." 

"  But  he  will  send  his  soldiers." 

"  Are  they  men  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  them  all  the  circumstances." 

"My  son,"  said  the  cobbler,  "it  would  seem 
that  you  are  not  well  acquainted  with  the  people 
of  our  city." 

"  I  must  confess  -that  I  am  not.     Until  yester 


day  and  the  day  before,  I  never  went  among 
them." 

"  Then  you  know  them  not,  nor  do  you  know 
our  king." 

"  Yes,  yes— I  know  Sohrab  well.  This  single 
act,  and  the  looks  of  his  face,  are  enough.  I 
know  him." 

"  Then  know  that  the  people  fear  him,  and 
that  they  will  do  his  bidding,  let  it  be  what  it 
may.  He  has  five  thousand  armed  slaves  in  his 
own  palace !" 

"  And  yet  I  do  not  fear  them,"  returned  Feri- 
doon,  "  so  long  as  God  is  with  me.  But  wait 
and  see  what  shall  come.  Let  us  not  fear  until 
we  have  occasion.  Come,  Zillah,  you  must  not 
fear  more,  for  I  am  with  thee.  I  have  struck 
down  thine  enemies  once,  and  I  can  do  it  again." 

Then  Feridoon  sat  down,  and  ere  long  his 
companions  were  so  entranced  by  his  conversa 
tion  that  they  fairly  forgot  the  danger  that  had 
threatened  them,  and  which  was  threatening 
them  still. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A    KING    IN    TROUBLE. 


SOHRAB  was  not  upon  his  throne.  He  had 
hurried  off  the  business  of  the  day,  leaving  the 
local  officers  to  carry  out  the  details  both  of 
judgment  and  punishment,  as  they  saw  fit.  He 
had  hurried  his  satraps  off  to  administer  the  gov 
ernmental  affairs  as  they  might  choose,  and  the 
great  hall  of  audience  was  nearly  empty.  A  few 
slaves  remained  behind  to  guard  the  place,  and 
ever  and  anon  some  officer  of  the  city  guard 
would  drop  in  to  make  his  report,  but  finding 
the  business  closed  for  the  day  he  would  gaze 
about  awhile  upon  the  magnificence  of  the  place 
and  then  depart.  And  this  hall  of  judgment 
was  worthy  of  being  gazed  upon,  for  every  art 
known  to  man  at  the  time  was  lavishly  displayed 
there. 

This  royal  audience  chamber  was  over  three 
hundred  feet  long  and  near  one  hundred  wide. 
The  sides  were  supported  by  eighty  marble  pil 
lars,  each  thirty-five  feet  high,  the  bases  of  which 
were  formed  by  two  recumbent  lions  to  each  col 
umn,  and  the  capitals  or  chapiters,  being  four 
human  forms  placed  at  the  angles  of  a  square, 
facing  outward  and  stooping  over  so  that  their 
heads  formed  volutes,  while  the  roof  rested  upon 
their  shoulders.  These  pillars  were  further 
adorned  with  all  sorts  of  strange  devices,  and 
much  matter  was  written  upon  them  in  what  are 
now  called  the  "  arrow  head  "  characters.  The 


dome,  or  centre  piece,  was  supported  by  eight 
more  columns,  seventy  feet  high,  and  in  the  cen 
tre  of  the  circle  of  these  columns  stood  the  royal 
throne,  covered  with  gold  and  precious  stones. 
There  was  vast  wealth  collected  here  ;  and  all  for 
one  man,  or  at  the  will  of  one.  And  the  thou 
sands  who  labored  received  for  their  work  noth 
ing  but  stripes  and  chains. 

But  the  king  was  not  now  upon  his  throne. 
Twenty  slaves  guarded  it  from  the  hands  of  the 
profane  while  their  royal  master  disposed  of  him 
self  elsewhere.  In  another  part  of  the  palace, 
where  the  open  windows  looked  out  upon  the 
broad  garden  and  the  artificial  river,  was  the 
king,  and  only  four  trusty  eunuchs  attended  him. 
He  had  gone  there  to  await  the  coming  of  the 
peerless  Zillah.  He  had  donned  his  most  sump 
tuous  suit,  and  little  dreamed  he  that  the  maiden 
would  spurn  all  his  offers.  He  knew  nothing  of 
that  deep  feeling  which  rests  in  the  pure  soul. 
Those  of  his  satellites  who  understood  it  told  it 
not  to  him,  for  they  knew  that  he  would  not 
comprehend  it.  He  imagined  that  his  royal 
favor  and  love  were  more  worth  than  all  the 
other  things  earth  or  heaven  can  give  for  this 
life. 

"  Those  slaves  are  tardy,"  he  muttered  to 
himself.  "  Have  they  not  been  gone  long  ?" 

This  last  remark  was  directed  to  his  eunuchs, 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


31 


and  they  answered  it  in  the  affirmative,  of  course. 
And  yet  time  sped  on  and  the  officer  and 
slaves  did  not  return.  Sohrab  became  vexed 
and  impatient,  for  he  was  not  used  to  having-the 
execution  of  his  orders  so  long  delayed.  And 
then  the  object  for  which  he  waited  was  one  that 
gave  him  more  than  usual  impatience.  Never 
before  had  he  seen  so  beautiful  a  being  as  the 
one  he  now  waited  for.  He  had  many  wives  and 
many  concubines,  but  not  one  in  all  his  palace 
had  beauty  like  the  daughter  of  the  poor  cobbler. 

At  length,  when  the  king  could  contain  him 
self  no  longer,  the  sound  of  footsteps  was  heard 
upon  the  stairs  leading  from  the  garden,  for  by 
that  way  had  Sohrab  directed  his  officer  to  re 
turn.  In  a  few  moments  more  the  door  of  the 
apartment  was  opened,  and,  throwing  aside  the 
heavy  tapestry  that  covered  it,  one  of  the  eunuchs 
who  had  been  placed  on  watch  entered.  He  re 
ported  to  the  king  that  the  slaves  were  returning, 
and  that  they  bore  the  chair  upon  their  shoulders. 

"  Ha — well  \"  uttered  the  king.  "  And  think 
you  the  chair  contains  anything  V 

"It  does,  sire,  for  the  slaves  walked  heavily 
under  their  burden." 

"  Good !  The  damsel  took  time  to  make  her- 
8elf  presentable.  I  shall  like  her  the  better- 
What  ho,  here.  Go  help  to  bear  the  fair  burden 
up  to  our  presence.  Now  by  the  gods,  I  shall 
revel  in  bliss  such  as  mortals  seldom  find.  Such 
wit — such  beauty — such  transcendent  loveliness 
were  never  seen !"  And  the  king  paced  to  and 
fro  across  the  broad  apartment,  as  he  thus  spoke 
with  himself.  "  'Tis  strange,  though/'  he  con 
tinued,  "  that  she  should  have  remained  hidden 
so  long.  Her  old  father  has  been  sly  of  her 
charms.  But  by  my  royal  head,  I  found  her. 
Zounds !  what  a  simple  thing  will  lead  to  great 
results.  Had  I  not  heard  the  cobbler  laugh  so 
loudly  I  should  never  have  entered  his  place — 
and  had  I  not  entered  I  should  not  have  seen  the 
jewel  of  life  I  found.  God  kept  her  for  me— 
surely !" 

The  king  was  stopped  in  his  soliloquy  by  the 
entrance  of  the  officer  whom  we  have  seen  at 
Zak  Turan's  with  the  six  slaves. 

"  Ha !  Manto  !"  cried  the  king,  "  where  is  your 
charge  ?  Bring  her  up  at  once." 

"  Sire,"  said  the  officer,  bowing  low  and  trem 
bling,  "  she  has  not  come." 

"  Not  come  !     What  mean  you  ?" 

"  The  lady  we  could  not  bring." 

"  Not  bring  ?  What  had  you  in  your  chair 
but  the  damsel1?" 


"  One  of  your  own  slaves  who  sprained  his 
thigh  so  that  he  could  not  walk." 

"  Now  by  the  gods,  dog,  you  lie  in  my  face !" 
cried  the  king,  in  a  towering  passion.  "  Why  do 
ye  tell  me  that  you  could  not  bring  her  1" 

"Because  we  met  with  resistance  we  could 
not  overcome." 

"  At  human  hands  ?" 

"  Yes,  sire." 

"  Then  why  did  ye  not  tell  them  that  it  was 
the  king  who  had  sent  you  V 

"  I  did." 

"Mark  me,  Manto — speak  no  lie.  Did  ye 
speak  to  a  living  man,  and  tell  him  'twas  the  or 
der  of  the  king,  and  then  did  that  man  resist  ?" 

"  Yes,  sire." 

"Was  it  the  cobbler V 

"  No.  He  resisted  not  at  all.  'Twas  a  young 
man  whom  I  never  before  saw ;  but  one  of  the 
slaves  knew  him  as  the  son  of  the  satrap  Rustem, 
named  Peridoon." 

"  Ha !  and  has  Rustem  thus  bred  traitors  for 
his  king  ?  But  who  helped  this  bold  youth  ?" 

"No  one,  sire.  He  is  himself  a  tower  of 
strength  and  daring.  He  seized  your  heaviest 
slaves  and  hurled  them  from  the  house  as  you 
would  hurl  a  light  javelin  from  you." 

"  You  are  lying,  dog !   No  man  could  do  that." 

"  You  shall  ask  your  slaves,  sire." 

Accordingly  the  slaves  were  called  in,  and  they 
not  only  corroborated  the  statement  of  Manto, 
but  they  went  on  and  described  the  youth's 
prowess  in  such  terms  that  for  a  while  rank.won- 
der  took  the  place  of  anger  in  the  royal  mind. 

"  Did  the  youth  give  any  reason  for  his  act  V 
the  king  at  length  asked. 

"  Ay.     He  said  he  loved  the  maiden  himself." 

"  Now,  by  the  throne  I  hold,"  cried  the  mon 
arch,  striding  across  the  apartment,  "  I'll  have 
that  rebel's  head  even  were  he  thrice  the  son  of  a 
satrap  !  Ay — I'd  have  his  life  if  he  were  my 
own  child.  Shall  I — the  king — the  monarch  of 
Persia — the  ruler  before  whom  all  people  bow, 
be  thus  trampled  upon  by  a  boy  ?  What  ho, 
there  !  Slaves  !  Dogs  !  Up,  up — and  haste 
my  will.  Call  up  the  captains,  Manto,  and  take 
a  hundred  soldiers.  See  them  well  armed  and 
then  go  bring  me  the  damsel  and  the  youth. 
Bring  the  latter  alive  if  you  can,  for  by  my  royal 
crown,  I  would  look  upon  him  ere  he  dies.  But 
harm  not  the  damsel.  Let  harm  come  to  her, 
and  I'll  have  the  life  of  every  man  I  send  !  Ere 
the  sun  goes  down  I  must  possess  the  beautiful 
Zillah,  for  my  heart  is  turned  with  love  of  her. 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


Haste  thee,  Manto,  and  let  my  bidding  be  done. 
I'll  await  thee  here." 

"  They  may  have  fled." 

"  Then  find  them." 

"  We  hasten  to  do  your  bidding." 

"  And  your  lives  shall  answer  for  your  suc 
cess." 

As  the  king  thus  spoke,  his  lieutenant  left  the 
apartment,  and  ere  long  a  hundred  soldiers  were 
ready  to  set  out,  and  with  them  went  six  more 
slaves  to  bear  the  chair.  People  gazed  upon 
them  as  they  passed,  and  wondered  what  plan 
the  king  had  on  foot  now. 

As  soon  as  Sohrab  was  left  alone  with  his 
eunuchs,  he  began  to  pace  the  apartment  more 
moderately  than  he  had  been  doing,  for  his 
thoughts  were  deep  and  interesting.  Feridoon 
was  his  subject,  and  he  gave  it  much  weight. 
He  remembered  the  youth,  and  he  remembered 
how  fair  and  beautiful  he  was.  As  the  reader 
knows,  the  king  had  seen  him  but  once,  and  that 
was  only  two  days  previous  to  the  present  time. 

"  Slave,"  he  said,  stopping  suddenly  in  his 
walk,  and  addressing  one  of  his  eunuchs,  "  go 
and  find  Kanah,  and  bid  him  attend  me  here." 

"  By  my  soul,  there's  something  strange  about 
this  youth,"  he  muttered,  after  the  eunuch  had 
gone.  "  I  noticed  when  he  sat  by  my  side  in 
the  great  hall,  that  he  behaved  not  as  other  peo 
ple  behave  in  the  presence  of  the  king.  He  did 
not  cower  nor  shrink  before  me,  and  his  obei 
sance  was  only  in  outward  form.  I'll  know  him 
well  ere  long — and  he  shall  know  me !" 

Soon  afterwards  one  of  the  inner  doors  of  the 
apartment  was  opened  and  an  old  man  entered. 
He  was  older  than  the  king,  for  he  had  surely 
seen  more  than  the  threescore-and-ten  years  of 
allotted  life.  Yet  he  was  firm  and  upright,  with 
a  face  of  great  shrewdness  and  intelligence.  His 
name  was  Kanah,  and  he  was  the  king's  chief 
counsellor  and  adviser. 

"  Ah,  good  Kanah,  I  have  sent  for  you  to  help 
me  in  a  curious  matter.  Do  you  remember  the 
youth  whom  Rustem  brought  hither  with  him  on 
the  day  before  yesterday  ?" 

"Ay,  sire,  I  remember  him  well." 

"  Then  sit  thee  down  here.  Now  listen."  And 
thereupon  the  king  went  on  and  related  all  that 
had  happened  at  the  house  of  the  cobbler. 
"  Now,  Kanah,"  the  monarch  resumed,  "  whom 
do  you  think  this  youth  to  be  ?" 

"  Surely,  sire,  I  know  not." 

"  But  do  you  think  him  really  the  son  of  the 
satrap  7" 


"No." 

"  Ha— I  thought  so." 

"  I  will  tell  you  my  reasons,  sire.  In  the  first 
place,  Rustem  told  tfs  that  this  youth  was  just 
one  and  twenty  years  of  age  on  the  day  he 
brought  him  here,  and  that  he  had  kept  him  thus 
far  secluded  so  that  he  might  not  become  con 
taminated  by  the  vices  of  other  youths.  Now  if 
you  will  take  the  trouble  to  refer  to  the  records 
in  the  archives  of  the  kingdom,  you  will  find  that 
twenty- three  years  ago  this  very  month,  Rustem 
went  into  Arabia  with  a  part  of  Kei  Khosrou's 
army,  and  was  gone  three  years.  This  is  the  first 
evidence  of  contradiction.  But  later  than  that  I 
have  one  from  his  own  lips.  It  is  not  ten  years 
since  Rustem  used  to  pray  that  God  would  be 
stow  a  son  upon  him,  and  I  remember  well,  that 
within  these  nine  years,  last  past,  he  has  offered 
sacrifices  of  goats  and  incense  to  God  for  the 
same  favor.  And  more  do  I  remember.  About 
five  years  ago,  Rustem  was  approaching  old  age 
with  sedate  and  sorrowful  looks,  and  I  think  that 
at  that  time  he  told  me,  when  I  rallied  him  upon 
his  dejection,  that  God  had  cursed  him  with 
barren  wives.  Then  it  was  that  he  went  off  to 
the  Hetzendarras  to  hunt,  and  when  he  returned 
I  could  see  that  he  came  with  smiles  and  good 
humor,  and  so  he  has  been  ever  since." 

"  By  my  life,  Kanah,  you  have  a  wonderful 
memory,"  said  the  monarch. 

"  I  have  looked  up  these  things,  sire,  since  the 
satrap  brought  his  son  here.  When  I  first  saw 
that  youth,  and  heard  Rustem  tell  that  it  was  his 
son,  I  began  to  doubt  it.  Out  of  curiosity  I 
hunted  over  the  proof,  and  now  you  know  it  as 
well  as  I  do." 

For  some  moments  the  king  remained  silent ; 
but  at  length  he  said,  while  a  sudden  light  shot 
athwart  his  countenance : 

"  Good  Kanah,  I  believe  I  am  ahead  of  thee. 
Dost  thou  not  remember  the  mighty  man  of  war 
— Kei  Khosrou's  great  general — GUSHTASP?" 

"  Ay,  well,"  returned  the  counsellor. 

"  You  remember  he  was  the  most  comely  man 
of  his  time,  and  the  most  mighty  in  strength1?" 

"  Ay — most  truly,  sire." 

"  And  is  not  this  youth  Feridoon  his  counter 
part  ?" 

"  Now,  by  the  gods,  my  noble  king,  you  have 
lifted  the  veil !"  cried  the  counsellor,  with  enthu 
siasm.  "  This  youth  is  the  very  self  of  Gushtasp 
in  form  and  feature ;  and  well  do  I  remember 
me  that  the  mighty  general  had  an  infant  son 
when  he  was— was — " 


THE  KING  AND  GOBBLER. 


33 


"  KiDed  by  the  robbers  of  the  desert,"  Bug] 
gested  the  king,  seeing  his  companion  hesitate. 

"  Ay — that  is  it,"  added  Kanah,  with  a  strange 
smile  upon  his  face.  "But  1  remember  well  that 
he  had  an  infant  son,  whom  he  took  with  him 
when  he  went  away  upon  his  last  mission." 

"  Rustem  shall  be  questioned  upon  this,"  re 
sumed  the  king. 

"  Yet.  sire,"  quickly  added  Kanah,  "  you  may 
be  sure  Rustem  meant  no  harm.  Whatever  may 
have  been  his  purpose  in  claiming  the  youth  as 
his  own  son,  you  may  rest  assured  that  he  meant 
no  harm  to  you  or  to  the  kingdom." 

"I  hope  not." 


"  0,  I  know  he  did  not,  for  I  know  Rustem 
well,  and  he  is  one  of  your  most  loyal  subjects. 
Get  the  truth  from  him,  but  do  not  accuse  him 
of  wrong." 

And  here  the  subject  of  Feridoon's  nativity 
rested  for  the  present.  The  king  and  his  coun 
sellor  conversed  a  long  while  upon  the-  curious 
circumstance,  but  they  arrived  at  no  farther 
points,  merely  dwelling  upon  the  various  sur 
mises  which  such  a  matter  would  be  likely  to 
bring  up— the  main  point  being  whether  Rus 
tem  had  brought  Feridoon  up  from  infancy,  or 
whether  he  had  found  him  more  recently. 


CHAPTER  Vll. 


A   MOST    STRANGE   BATTLE. 


THE  wife  of  Zak  Turan  prepared  dinner  in 
her  best  styls,  for  she  had  conceived  a  love  for 
Feridoon  such  as  she  would  have  felt  for  her 
own  child,  and  she  wished  to  do  him  homage. 
The  dinner  was  eaten,  and  then  Feridoon  went 
away  and  sat  down  with  Zillah,  while  Rudabah 
cleared  off  the  table,  and  shortly  afterwards  Zak 
Turan  went  out  to  his  stall  to  work,  for  he  had 
a  pair  of  sandals  to  stitch  before  night.  It  was 
about  half  ail  hour  after  this,'  while  the  youth 
and  maiden  were  conversing  ardently  together, 
that  the  cobbler  came  rushing  in  all  pale  and 
trembling. 

"  The  Lord  save  us  now !"  he  ejaculated. 
"A  hundred  soldiers  are  coming  this  way,"  and 
the  same  officer  leads  them  who  was  here  this 
morning.  Ormuzd  be  with  us  now !" 

Zillah  uttered  a  sharp  cry  upon  this  intelli 
gence,  and  she  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor  in 
a  swoon  had  not  her  lover  caught  her  in  his  arms, 

"  Fly,  good  Feridoon — fly !"  cried  Zak  Turan. 

"  Not  so,  father,"  calmly  replied  the  youth. 
"  I  shall  not  do  myself  the  injustice,  for  only 
the  guilty  flee  when  any  man  approacheth.  Yet 
I  would  have  thee  conduct  Zillah  away  from 
here,  for  she  may  be  moved  with  too  much  fear. 
Mother,  you  will  take  her  to  her  own  apart 
ments." 

No  sooner  had  Feridoon  thus  spoken,  that* 


Rudabah  took  Zillah  by  the  hand  to  lead  hei 
away ;  but  the  maiden  revived  upon  the  moment 
she  found  herself  about  to  be  taken  from  her 
lover,  and  it  was  not  until  Feridoon  laid  his  ex 
press  command  upon  her,  that  she  could  be  in 
duced  to  leave.  Hardly  had  she  gone  and  left 
our  hero  and  the  cobbler  together,  when  the 
heavy  footfalls  of  the  soldiers  were  heard  without* 
The  youth  sprang  to  the  door,  and  he  reached  it 
just  as  the  soldiers  were  entering  at  the  gate. 

"Hold  there,  hirelings!"  shouted  Feridoon* 
"  Now  what  seek  ye  ?" 

"  Both  you  and  the  damsel  Zillah,"  returned 
Manto,  for  he  it  was  who  led  the  band. 

"And  wherefore  me  1" 

"  The  king  will  pitnish  you  for  your  deed  this 
morning." 

"  And  wherefore  the  damsel  ?"  ^ 

"  That  our  king  may  take  her  to  wife.'* 

"  And  if  she  were  once  within  the  king's  grasp 
he  would  make  her  his  wife  in  spite  of  all  reason 
and  persuasion  V 

"  He  would  do  his  own  will  most  surely,  for 
kings  are  not  prone  to  ask  advice  upon  such 
matters." 

"  Then  you  may  go  and  tell  the  king  that  Zil 
lah  he  cannot  have,  and  tell  him  also  that  I  will 
come  to  him  on  the  morrow." 

"  But  we  have  orders  to  take  you  both  now/* 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


"And  if  I  refuse?" 

"  Then  you  must  go  by  force.  The  king  bade 
me  fetch  you  to  him  either  dead  or  alive." 

"  Then  he  is  angry  because  I  resisted  you  be 
fore1?" 

"  He  is." 

"  You  did  not  tell  him  that  the  maiden  was 
already  beloved  by  another  ?" 

"I  did." 

"And  does  he  still  persist  in  having  the  maid 
en  for  his  own  ?" 

"  Most  resolutely." 

"  Then  what  a  tyrant  have  we  for  a  ruler ! 
Go  tell  him  that  I  will  come  to  him  to-morrow, 
and  that  then  we  will  argue  our  respective 
claims  face  to  face." 

For  a  few  moments  Manto  seemed  undecided 
how  to  act ;  but  he  quickly  remembered  the 
order  of  his  royal  master,  and  his  mind  was  as 
quickly  made  up. 

"  Young  sir,"  he  said,  "  you  have  heard  the 
orders  we  have  from  the  king.  Both  you  and 
'.be  damsel  must  go  with  us  now.  If  you  will 
submit  quietly,  all  will  be  well ;  but  if  you 
choose  to  resist,  the  result  be  upon  your  own 
head." 

"  Be  it  where  it  will,  I  shall  not  submit,  be 
cause  if  I  do,  Zillah  will  most  assuredly  be  car 
ried  to  the  king,  and  then  no  one  can  protect  her. 
Methinks  you,  being  a  man,  can  judge  somewhat 
of  my  feelings.  You  know  how  you  would  feel 
were  the  king  to  send  a  guard  of  slaves  to  seize 
your  own  loved  wife,  for  the  God  above  us  knows 
that  I  love  the  beautiful  Zillah  as  though  she 
were  already  mine  in  marriage.  Now  I  have  said 
all.  I  hope  you  will  not  put  me  to  another  test." 

Manto  knew  that  he  should  fail  in  argument, 
and  as  time  was  precious,  he  resolved  to  do  his 
work  at  once.  So  he  beckoned  to  his  followers 
and  bade  them  seize  the  youth  immediately. 

"  Remember  !"  cried  Feridoon,  "  this  is  right 
against  wrong.  I  shall  defend  the  maiden  that 
I  love  against  any  power  that  shall  set  itself  up 
in  open  violation  of  the  laws  of  justice.  And 
remember  one  other  thing.  You  are  many,  and 
I  must  therefore  fight  to  the  death  if  you  force 
me!" 

But  the  soldiers  heeded  not  his  words.  They 
know  nothing  of  him  but  what  they  now  saw, 
and  with  a  confident  movement  some  dozen  of 
those  in  advance  moved  towards  him.  It  so  hap 
pened  that  a  stout  lever  of  olive  wood  stood 
against  the  door  post — a  lever  which  Zak  Turan 
had  used  for  prying  his  door  stone  into  place — 


and  this  the  youth  seized  at  once.  It  was 
six  feet  long  and  very  stout  and  heavy.  This 
repeated  wrong  had  roused  his  indignation  to  its 
highest  pitch,  and  as  he  saw  the  movement  of  the 
soldiers  towards  him,  seeing  some  of  them  draw 
their  swords,  and  knowing  that  they  were  ready 
to  kill  him  rather  than  let  him  escape,  he  became 
arigry  beyond  self-control ;  it  was  the  first  time 
within  his  memory  that  his  passions  had  been  so 
thoroughly  aroused.  He  swung  the  huge  club 
over  his  head,  and  at  the  first  sweep  four  men 
were  laid  prostrate.  Higher  and  higher  rose  his 
wrath  as  he  saw  the  whole  phalanx  draw  their 
swords,  and  with  his  whole  might  he  rushed  upon 
them. 

Manto  had  at  first  wondered  if  the  youth  could 
sway  that  huge  club  with  skill  enough  to  effect 
anything,  but  his  wonder  changed  to  deadly  fear, 
for  he  not  only  saw  the  ponderous  lever  flash 
through  the  air  like  a  lightning-bolt,  but  he  saw 
the  youth's  face,  and  he  knew  that  the  savage 
had  supplanted  the  philosopher.  He  shrank 
behind  his  followers,  as  he  had  a  right  to  do, 
and  when  he  saw  them  falling  like  grain  before 
the  reaper's  hook,  he  resolved  to  make  one  last 
effort. 

"  What  ho  !  my  men  !"  he  cried,  "  now  move 
together !  rush  in  upon  him  at  once— all  of  you 
— in  a  body  !" 

But  the  rushing  part  of  the  work  was  upon 
the  other  hand.  No  man,  nor  no  body  of  men 
could  stand  before  the  enraged  youth.  He  had 
his  enemies  all  before  him,  and  not  one  of  them 
could  reach  him,  for  that  stout  club  performed 
its  circuits  instantly,  and  its  force  was  such  that 
a  whole  section  was  swept  down  at  once.  Swords 
were  of  no  more  use  than  so  many  chips  would 
have  been.  Those  of  the  soldiers  who  had  been 
without  the  gate  rushed  in  when  they  heard  the 
sound  of  conflict,  and  as  they  saw  their  com 
rades  falling  before  them  they  pressed  blindly 
forward,  shouting  and  pushing  and  brandishing 
their  swords.  But  soon  the  current  set  against 
them— those  in  advance  began  to  fall  back.  Yet 
they  braced  themselves  up,  little  dreaming  at 
the  moment  that  they  were  only  forcing  their 
brethren  into  useless  destruction. 

Thus  went  the  work  on.  Feridoon  was  not 
only  yet  untouched,  but  at  every  stroke  he  seemed 
to  gain  new  strength.  The  truth  was,  he  was 
losing  his  humanity — he  was  forgetting  that  he 
was  a  man.  He  seemed  only  to  realize  that  he 
was  a  beast  defending  his  young  from  a  merci 
less  foe.  He  swept  his  enormous  club  over  his 


36 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


head,  and  the  royal  soldiers  fell  before  him  like 
chaff. 

But  such  a  combat  could  not  last  long.  One 
stout  man  will  make  quick  work  with  a  hundred 
puny  boys,  and  Feridoon  did  the  same  with  the 
hundred  soldiers.  The  garden  was  literally 
strewed  with  prostrate  bodies,  and  when  at  length 
the  youth  passed  the  gate  and  entered  the  street, 
only  six  men  were  left  to  flee  before  him,  and 
one  of  those  was  Manto.  He  had  had  the  judg 
ment  to  keep  out  of  the  way.  As  soon  as  Feri 
doon  found  that  there  were  no  more  to  oppose 
him  he  let  the  point  of  his  club  fall,  and  having 
gazed  until  the  six  fugitives  had  disappeared  he 
returned  into  the  garden.  Some  of  the  men 
were  just  crawling  to  their  feet,  but  they  fell 
back  as  they  saw  their  terrible  enemy  returning. 
The  youth  did  not  molest  them,  however,  but 
pursued  his  way  at  once  to  the  house,  where  he 
found  the  poor  cobbler  trembling  like  an  aspen. 

"  Now,  mine  excellent  host,  what  is  the  mat 
ter  ?"  asked  Feridoon,  as  he  noticed  the  old  man's 
perturbation. 

"  The  Lord  preserve  us  !"  uttered  Zak  Turan, 
in  trembling  accents.  "You  have  slain  the 
king's  soldiers,  and  most  surely  will  he  have 
vengeance.  You  will  not  always  be  here  to  pro 
tect  us,  and  ere  long  they  will  come  down  upon 
me/' 

"Fear  not,  my  kind  father,"  returned  the 
youth,  persuasively.  "  You  have  had  no  hand 
in  any  of  these  doings,  and  so  I  will  inform  the 
king." 

"  Will  you  tell  him  that  ?" 

"  Most  assuredly." 

"  But  will  you  see  him  ?" 

"  I  shall  see  him  to-morrow." 

"  He  will  kill  you  !" 

"  I  think  not.  I  shall  go  armed,  and  if  he  is 
sues  orders  against  my  life,  I  shall  make  him  a 
hostage  for  my  safety.  Fear  not  for  me." 

At  this  moment,  when  the  cobbler  was  upon 
the  point  of  speaking,  the  door  was  opened,  and 
Feridoon  instinctively  raised  the  terrible  club 
which  he  still  held  in  his  hand;  but  it  was 
quickly  dropped,  for  he  saw  that  the  new-comer 
was  none  other  than  Kobad,  the  astrologer.  He 
gazed  eagerly  about  him  as  he  entered,  and  the 
tremulousness  of  his  flowing  white  beard  showed 
that  he  was  moved  by  some  strange  fear,  but 
when  his  eye  rested  upon  Feridoon,  his  face 
brightened,  and  he  hastened  forward. 

"  My  son,"  said  he,  "  what  strange  thing  is 
this  which  has  happened  ?" 


"  'Tis  the  result  of  th*e  doings  of  a  wicked 
king,"  returned  the  youth. 

Kobad  sat  down  and  Feridoon  took  a  seat  by 
his  side,  and  then  the  latter  related  all  that  had 
happened,  commencing  with  the  first  coming  of 
the  three  disguised  men,  and  ending  with  the 
conflict  that  had  just  transpired.  When  he  had 
closed  his  startling  narrative,  the  astrologer  was 
for  some  moments  lost  in  deep  wonder,  but  a 
sense  of  the  real  situation  of  things  about  him 
came  soon  to  his  mind,  and  he  started  from  his 
seat. 

"Noble,  generous,  brave  boy,"  he  cried,  em 
bracing  the  youth  as  he  spoke.  "  How  rightly 
did  the  satrap  judge  when  he  called  thee  the 
LION  HEART.  And  you  love  the  gentle  Zillah  ?" 

"  O,  with  every  thought  and  feeling  of  my 
life  !"  quickly  answered  Feridoon. 

"  God  be  praised  for  that !"  fervently  ejaculat 
ed  the  venerable  man.  "  I  knew  you  would  love 
her,  for  she  is  worthy  of  it.  Bat  alas  that  the 
foul  king  should  have  seen  her,  seeing  that  she 
has  no  rank  to  protect  her  loveliness.  And  yet 
rank  or  wealth  is  nothing  to  him.  Sobrab  ti*kes 
whom  he  pleases,  from  the  parents  of  his  court 
to  those  of  the  very  beggars.  But  Zillah  must 
be  removed  now,  for  she  will  be  no  longer  safe 
here." 

"  I  will  protect  her,"  said  Feridoon. 

"  But  you  cannot  always  be  with  her." 

"  I  will  marry  her." 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  old  man,  with  something 
like  a  smile  upon  his  face.  "  And  even  if  you 
did,  it  would  not  save  her,  for  you  must  remem 
ber  that  the  king  will  not  give  up  his  purpose. 
You  can  see  that  in  the  very  thing  he  has  done 
to-day — first  sending  his  slaves  and  then  his  sol 
diers.  His  next  movement  will  be  to  send  a 
body  of  lancers  and  archers,  and  against  javelins 
and  arrows  your  strength  will  not  avail  you." 

Feridoon  saw  the  justice  of  these  remarks,  and 
after  he  had  pondered  awhile,  he  asked  Kobad 
what  he  would  do  for  Zillah's  safety. 

"  I  will  take  her  with  me  and  place  her  where 
the  king  will  not  find  her,"  answered  the  sage. 
"  I  know  of  a  place  he  will  not  easily  find,  and 
thither  I  will  take  her  at  once— and  not  only 
her,  but  her  parents  also,  for  Sohrab  will  surely 
take  them  in  his  rage.  The  influence  of  the  sa 
trap  may  protect  you,  but  you  can  go  with  me  if 
you  like." 

"I  would^go  and  be  with  Zillah,  but  not  to 
flee  from  the  king,  for  on  the  morrow  I  shall  go 
to  the  royal  palace.  But  promise  me  one  thing 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


37 


— when  Zillah  is  hidden  away  I  may  sometimes 
go  and  sec  her." 

"  Most,  assuredly — only  there  must  be  a  con 
dition.  You  shall  go  only  when  I  can  go  with 
you." 

"  And  why  so  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  see  that  if  the  king  allows  you 
to  go  at  large  you  will  be  watched  ?  He  knows 
that  you  love  the  beautiful  damsel,  and  that  you 
would  be  likely  to  visit  her.  Your  steps  would 
be  followed  accordingly,  and  Zillah's  place  of 
concealment  thus  traced  out." 

"  I  see,"  quickly  returned  the  youth,  frankly, 
"  and  I  will  obey.  But  there  is  yet  one  other 
thing.  How  long  must  Zillah  remain  thus  con 
cealed  ?  For  I  see  not  how  the  power  or  will  of 
the  king  is  to  be  overcome,  but  by  perpetual 
concealment." 

The  astrologer  bowed  his  head,  and  at  the  ex 
piration  of  a  few  moments  he  said  : 

"  We  will  speak  of  that  at  some  other  time. 
I  can  save  her  for  the  present,  and  for  the  future 
I  can  see  things  which  may  not  be  explained 
now.  But  we  must  move  quick,  for  in  all  prob 
ability  the  king  will  send  a  host  here  as  soon  as 
his  discomfited  messengers  return  with  their 
tidings  of  failure." 

Accordingly  Zillah  and  her  mother  were  called 
down,  arid  they  both  readily  "embraced  the  as 
trologer's  offer,  for  they  saw  that  it  was  the  only 
real  means  of  safety.  So  they  set  about  'pre 
paring  themselves  at  once.  Zak  Turan  packed 
up  what  little  money  and  small  articles  of  value 
he  had  ;  Iludabah  took  such  articles  of  clothing 
as  she  thought  she  should  need;  while'  Zillah 
only  thought  of  spending  her  present  moments 
with  her  lover  ;  but  her  mother  worked  for  her, 
and  ere  long  they  were  ready  to  start. 

"Let  us  wait  no  longer,"   said  Kobad,  when 
he  saw  that  all  was  ready. 
3 


"But  I  may  see  her  soon,"  urged  Feridoon, 
still  clinging  fondly  to  the  being  he  so  deeply 
loved. 

"  Yes.  I  will  come  for  you  as  soon  as  is 
proper.  But  if  you  delay  us  now,  ruin  may  fall 
upon  all.  Be  wise,  and  you  shall  be  the  happier 
for  it." 

The  youth  understood  the  meaning  of  the 
sage,  and  with  one  more  fond  embrace  and  one 
more  sweet  kiss,  he  handed  Zillah  over  to  her 
mother,  and  prayed  that  God  would  protect  her. 
Then  Kobad  led  the  way  out  through  the  back 
passage  into  the  narrow,  tiled  covert  behind  the 
house,  and  from  thence  he  proceeded  on  through 
a  low,  vaulted  corridor  that  connected  with  the 
bathing  houses  belonging  to  dwellings  upon  an 
other  street.  Ere  long,  he  came  out  into  a  nar 
row,  dark  lane  which  seemed  to  wind  about  on 
purpose  for  intricacy,  and  as  the  way  was  here 
clear  he  pushed  on  with  quick  steps. 

Feridoon  watched  the  party  till  they  had 
passed  from  sight  and  then  he  turned  his  steps 
towards  the  front  yard.  Here  he  found  some 
sixty  men  either  dead  or  so  far  gone  that  fliey 
had  no  life  to  show,  but  he  could  not  help  the 
matter  now.  He  supposed  the  servants  of  the 
king  would  come  and  take  care  of  them  in  good 
time.  There  may  have  been  a  momentary  pang 
— a  sensation  of  pain — as  the  youth  looked  upon 
the  work  of  death  he  had  done ;  but  he  quickly 
remembered  that  those  he  had  slain  were  men 
let  out  to  do  evil  for  another — men  who  were 
ready  to  stake  their  lives  in  an  event  of  ever  so 
great  a  crime,  and  that  their  death  had  ibeen 
necessary  to  secure  the  safety  of  one  who  was 
worth  more  to  earth  and  to  God  than  all  the 
hireling  soldiers  a  tyrant  can  muster.  These 
thoughts  calmed  his  mind,  and  with  a  soul  satis 
fied  with  this,  its  first  great  essay  of  life,  he 
moved  on. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE    KING    STILL   IN   TROUBLE. 


LONG  and  impatiently  did  the  king  await  the 
coming  of  those  whom  he  had  sent  for  Zillah, 
and  often  did  deep  curses  fall  from  his  lips 
as  moment  after  moment  sped  away.  His  old 
counsellor  had  left  him,  and  he  had  called  his 
four  most  trusty  eunuchs  to  bear  him  company. 
At  length  the  sound  of  feet  came  upon  the  stairs, 
and  a  slave  who  had  been  set  upon  the  watch 
entered. 

"  Now,  slave,  what  news  bring  you  ?  Speak 
it  out,  and  stand  not  trembling  there.  By  the 
heavens  and  all  .the  gods  that  dwell  therein, 
you'd  better  not  crush  my  hopes.  What  have 
ye  seen  ?" 

"  Some  of  your  men  are  returning,  sire." 
"  Some,  say  ye  ?     How  many  ?" 
"  Perhaps  a  score." 

"  They  come  as  messengers,  or  mayhap  they 
bear  the  young  rebel,  while  those  with  the  maid 
en  come  more  slowly." 

"  But  those  who  come  now  bear  the  litter  with 
them." 

"  Ha — then  they  bring  the  maiden.  Go  con 
duct  them  here  at  once  !" 

The  slave  had  seen  that  the  litter  was  borne 
with  its  crimson  canopy  sidling,  and  he  knew 
that  no  maiden  could  be  in  it,  but  he  dared  not 
tell  his  thoughts  to  his  king ;  so  he  withdrew, 
and  shortly  afterwards  Manto  entered  alone.  He 


was  pale  and  trembling,  and  as  he  met  the  in 
quiring  gaze  of  his  monarch  his  eyes  fell  to  the 
floor. 

"  Now,  Manto,  speak  I"  uttered  the  king,  in 
a  harsh,  forced  tone.  "  Where  is  the  maiden— 
and  where  the  youth  ?" 

'We  could  not  take  them,  sire,"  answered 
the  lieutenant,  mustering  all  his  courage. 

:'  Beware,  Manto  !  Do  not  tell  me  a  lie.  Do 
not  tell  me  you  could  not." 

"  I  speak  the  truth,  sire." 

"  Did  you  not  take  one  hundred  men  with 
you  ?" 

"  Yes,  sire." 

"And  what  did  they?" 

"  As  God  is  my  Maker  and  my  Hope,  they 
fell  like  chaff  before  the  wind,  beneath  the  single 
arm  of  him  whom  you  call  Eeridoon,  or  the 
Lion  Heart." 

The  king  sank  down  upon  a  seat  and  gazed 
his  lieutenant  in  the  face.  Thus  he  remained  for 
a  full  minute,  and  then  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Manto  !"  he  said,  in  a  hoarse,  husky  voice 
"  I  do  not  think  you  would  lie  to  me." 

"  I  could  not,  if  I  would." 

"  Then  tell  me  truly — did  this  youth,  all  alone, 
do  as  jfii  have  said  ?" 

"  Of  a  verity  did  he,  sire." 

"  With  what  manner  of  weapon  1" 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


"  With  an  enormous  club  —  a  ponderous  beam 
of  wood." 

"  Then  he  must  have  slain  some  of  my  guard." 

"  Full  threescore,  at  least." 

"  There  is  more  than  human  work  in  that. 
The  youth  has  some  powerful  afrite*  under  his 
control.  It  must  be  so.  But  tell  me  ail,  Manto." 

The  lieutenant  was  much  relieved  when  he 
found  that  the  king  did  not  kill  him  nor  swear 
vengeance  against  him,  and  he  related  all  the 
circumstances  jast  as  they  occurred,  save  that 
he  gave  a  little  extra  coloring  to  the  appearance 
of  Feridoon.  When  he  had  concluded,  the  king 
remained  for  some  moments  in  deep  thought. 
He  was  naturally  superstitious,  and  hence  his 
mind  had  something  to  dwell  upon  besides  the 
disappointment  he  suffered.  But  his  energies 
were  not  by  any  means  gone,  and  ere  long  his 
next  proceeding  was  planned. 

"  Now  mark  me,  Manto,"  he  said,  arising, 
and  speaking  slowly,  and  with  energy.  "  Go 
and  call  up  a  hundred  more  men.  Take  the 
stoutest  of  our  archers,  and  see  that  each  man 
has  his  javelin  —  for  by  all  the  powers  of  dark 
ness  he  cannot  withstand  the  finely  tempered 
points  of  our  arrow  and  javelin  heads.  Go  you 
with  these,  and  bring  him  to  me.  Order  him 
to  surrender,  and  if  he  does  not,  then  kill  him 
at  once.  Kastef  now,  and  when  he  is  despatched 
or  secured,  the  maiden  may  be  easily  taken. 
Do  you  understand?"  This  presented  some 
thing  tangible  and  sure  to  the  lieutenant's  mind, 
for  now  his  men  could  fight  at  a  distance,  and 
he  did  not  think  the  flesh  of  the  wonderful  youth 
would  be  impervious  to  the  best  and  surest  ar 
row  heads  in  the  kingdom.  So  he  told  the  king 
he  would  obey,  and  then  set  at  once  about  his 
mission. 

"  I'll  have  the  damsel  yet,"  the  monarch  mat 
tered,  as  soon  as  he  was  left  alone  with  his  eu 
nuchs.  "  And  when  I  do  have  her,  I  shall  have 
well  earned  my  right  to  the  possession.  By  my 
royal  diadem,  I'd  possess  her  now  if  it  took  every 
man  in  my  kingdom  to  pay  the  price  !" 

An  hour  passed  away,  and  during  that  time 
Sohrab  had  been  part  of  the  time  in  the  outer 
porch  with  his  pet  birds,  and  part  of  the  time 
with  his  eunuchs  in  the  great  hall  where  he 
meant  to  receive  his  beautiful  prize. 

But  the  end  of  that  hour  again  brought  disap 
pointment.  Manto  returned  and  reported  that 
neither  the  youth,  the  maiden,  the  cobbler  nor 


by  the 


,i-*-  uf  genie  held  ">  much 

ancients  as  being  of  the  demon  stamp. 


his  wife  could  be  found  ;  but  he  said  he  had  set 
his  hundred  men  upon  the  search,  with  direc 
tions  not  to  give  up  until  some  of  them  had  been 
found. 

The  king  listened  until  his  lieutenant  had  fin 
ished,  and  then  sat  down  again  and  bent  his 
brow  upon  his  hand.  Had  he  been  only  half  as 
much  moved  as  he  really  was,  he  would  prob 
ably  have  struck  Manto  dead  at  his  feet  at  once, 
but  his  emotions  were  so  deep  that  they  literal 
ly  operated  as  a  weight  upon  his  passions. 
Reason  came  to  him,  as  comes  the  last  iron 
touch  of  will  to  the  dying  man  when  all  hope 
is  gone.  He  sat  thus  for  full  five  minutes,  but 
those  minutes  seemed  hours  to  Manto,  for  he 
now  expected  nothing  else  so  much  as  instant 
death. 

"  Macto,"  he  at  length  said,  in  a  hoarse  whis 
per,  "  go  and  send  Kanah  to  me,  and  then  send 
at  once  for  the  satrap  Rustem." 

With  a  step  quicker  by  far  than  usual  did  the 
lieutenant  obey  this  mandate,  for  he  felt  as 
though  he  were  escaping  death. 

Soon  the  counsellor  made  his  appearance,  and 
to  him  the  king  related  what  had  happened.  At 
first,  the  old  minister  could  scarcely  credit  the 
story,  but  when  his  royal  master  had  told  all,  he 
was  forced  to  give  it  credit. 

"  Has  not  the  youth  an  afrite  to  obey  his 
will  V  Sohrab  asked. 

Kanah  started. 

"'Tis  a  long  while,"  he  answered,  "since  I 
have  seen  reason  to  believe  in  the  existence  of 
those  powerful  spirits,  but  I  will  not  take  it  upon 
myself  to  say  that  they  do  not  exist.  But  I 
would  rather  see  Rustem." 

"  I  have  sent  for  him." 

"  Then  we  shall  know  something  from  him.5> 

They  did  not  have  to  wait  long  for  the  satrap, 
as  he  was  already  on  his  way  to  the  royal  palace 
when  he  met  the  messenger.  He  was  very  pale 
when,  he  entered  the  apartment,  and  his  coun 
tenance  showed  plainly  that  he  labored  under 
much  fear.  The  king  looked  up  as  his  satrap 
entered,  and  for  a  moment  he  seemed  undeci 
ded  how  to  receive  him,  but  his  first  words 
were  very  moderate. 

"  Rustem,  we  have  been  anxious  to  see  you. 
A  most  wondrous  thing  has  happened— a  thing 
almost  passing  belief,  and  we  want  your  assis 
tance  in  digging  up  the  mystery." 

"  Sire  !"  spoke  the  satrap,  trying  to  compose 
himself,  "I  know  to  what  you  allude.  You 
speak  of  deeds  which  my  son  has  this  day  done." 


40 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


f<  Ay— that  I  do  !"  replied  the  king,  quickly 
and  vehemently.  "  Do  you  then  know  of  them  V 

"  Yes,  sire.  My  son  reached  home  before  I 
came  away,  and  he  told  me  all  that  had  hap 
pened.  I  was  not  only  angry,  but  I  would  have 
punished  him  had  I  been  able.  However,  my 
anger  will  be  some  punishment." 

"  And  he  told  you  all,?  How  he  refused  to 
comply  with  my  orders  ?  how  he  attacked  my 
own  slaves  ?  how  he  killed  my  own  guard  1  and 
how  he  hurled  defiance  at  me  ? — at  me — his  king 
and  lawful  sovereign  ?" 

"  Yes,  sire — he  told  me  all." 

"  And  what  was  his  reason  I" 

"  He  loved  the  girl  himself." 

"  But  how  could  he  have  seen  her,  since  he 
has  been  all  the  while  confined  ?" 

"  He  never  saw  her  until  yesterday." 

"  Ha  !  And  that  is  the  amount  of  priority  of 
love  he  claims !  Why  did  you  not  strike  him 
dead  when  these  awful  confessions  fell  from  bis 
own  lips  V 

"  For  two  reasons,  sire.  First,  I  am  not 
strong  enough ;  and  second,  he  is  my  own  child, 
and  my  father's — " 

"  Stop  !  stop  !  good  Rustem,  you  forget  your 
self,"  uttered  the  king,  interrupting  him.  "  Are 
you  sure  he  is  your  own  child  V 

The  satrap  started  as  though  an  arrow  had 
pierced  his  heart.  He  gazed  first  into  the  face 
of  the  king,  and  then  into  that  of  the  counsellor. 

"  What  mean  you,  sire  ?"  he  at  length  asked, 
hesitatingly. 

"  Do  you  not  know  what  I  mean  V  asked 
Sohrab  in  reply,  eyeing  the  satrap  sharply.  "  I 
asked  you  if  you  were  sure  that  youth  was  your 
own  child.  Now  speak  no  falsehood,  for  I  would 
have  the  truth." 

Rustem  did  not  hesitate  long,  for  he  saw  that 
his  monarch  had  some  clue  to  the  truth,  and  he 
resolved  to  speak  it. 

"  Sire/'  he  said,  "  I  have  never  meant  to  de 
ceive  you,  or  to  deceive  others,  any  more  than 
he  deceives  who  tries  to  hide  his  faults  of  form 
by  change  and  taste  of  dress.  You  know  how 
long  I  prayed  for  a  son,  and  how  fruitless  were 
my  prayers.  Five  years  ago  I  went  to  the  moun 
tains  of  the  Hetzcndarra  on  a  hunting  expedi 
tion.  An  old  hunter  told  me  of  a  strange  ani 
mal  he  had  seen  in  the  mountains.  On  the  next 
day  I  went  in  search  of  it,  taking  the  hunter  for 
my  guide.  I  found  the  strange  thing  the  fellow 
had  seen,  and  gave  it  chase,  and  when  I  found 
that  I  should  lose  it  at  that  rate,  I  drew  my  jav 


elin  and  threw  it  with  a  quick,  strong  aim" ;  It 
struck  the  animal  upon  the  hip,  and  stopped  him. 
Now,  sire,  this  strange  animal  was  nothing  less 
than  a  wild  youth,  habited  in  a  garb  of  leaves, 
In  every  particular  was  he  like  the  wild  beasts 
about  him,  save  that  he  seemed  to  take  a  deep 
interest  in  hearing  me  converse.  He  could  nei 
ther  speak  a  single  word  of  any  language  nor 
understand  a  word  of  mine.  But  I  took  him 
home,  and  he  conceived  an  affection  for  me.  I 
soon  found  that  he  had  some  faint  recollections 
of  language,  and  I  employed  two  of  the  best 
scholars  I  could  find  to  educate  him.  In  one 
year's  time  he  could  speak  plainly  and  read,  and 
at  the  end  of  five  years  he  stood  before  me  the 
most  polished  man  I  knew,  for  daring  all  the 
time  of  his  studies  his  mind  had  not  once  been 
distracted  by  extraneous  affairs.  And  now, 
sire,  do  you  wonder  that  I  should  have  called 
him  my  son  ?  that  I  should  have  loved  him  as 
such  ?" 

"  Kanah,  what  think  you  ?"  asked  the  king, 
turning  to  his  counsellor. 

"  I  th ink  Rustem's  story  one  of  deep  interest, 
and  one  of  truth,  as  well.  And  now  we  have 
some  clue  to  the  youth's  prodigious  strength.  I 
remember  a  wild  man  who  was  found  in  the  Cau 
casus,  and  it  was  almost  impossible  to  capture 
him.  I  would  not  believe  that  the  human  frame 
could  give  room  for  such  strength,  if  I  had  not 
seen  it.  And  then  remember  one  other  thing, 
sire :  remember  the  tree  from  which  this  scion 
probably  sprung.  Gushtasp  was  the  mightiest 
man  in  the  kingdom.  You  remember  that  no 
six  men  in  the  army  could  beat  him  from  the 
arena." 

"Gushtasp!"  uttered  Rustem,  in  surprise. 
"  What  mean  you  ?" 

"  Simply,"  answered  the  king,  "  that  this 
youth,  Feridoon,  must  be  the  son  of  that  general, 
His  every  look  shows  it." 

The  satrap  began  to  see  now  what  the  others- 
had  seen.  He  reflected  a  while,  and  he  remem 
bered  how  Gushtasp  had  looked,  and  thon  he 
knew  Feridoon  was  his  counterpart. 

"  Upon  my  life,"  he  replied,  "  yon  da  recall 
now  my  own  memory  of  the  great  general.  It 
must  be  as  you  have  said." 

"  And  even  Gushtasp  himself  was  tinged  with* 
rebellion,"  remarked  the  king. 

"  Rebellion  !     Gushtasp  !"  uttered  Rustem. 

"  Ay ;  but  we  will  not  speak  of  the  deai.  Let 
me  know  what  you  mean  to  do  with  your  adopt- 
ed  child."' 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLEK. 


41 


**  It  is  against  yon,  sire,  that  his  deeds  have 
been  done ;  but  I  pray  you  that  his  ignorance  of 
government  and  the  rights  of  kings  may  be  set 
down  in  his  favor.  I  am  sure  he  meant  no  dis 
respect  to  his  royal  master,  but  only  thought  of 
the  love  he  bore  the  damsel." 

"  Well,"  answered  the  king,  after  some  mo 
ments  of  thought,  "  I  will  do  thus  :  to-morrow 
the  youth  shall  come  before  me,  and  if  he  will 
confess  where  the  maiden,  Zillah,  is  hidden,  and 
give  her  quietly  up  to  me,  then  shall  this  first 
grievous  offence  be  forgiven.  What  say  you  ?" 
he  asked,  searchingly. 

•*'  Most  assuredly  shall  he  do  so,  sire,"  quickly 
answered  the  satrap.  "I  suppose  the  damsel  is 
beautiful—" 

"  As  lovely  as  the  full  moon  at  midnight,  in 
the  open  heavens.  As  beautiful  as  the  lily  of 
the  vale  and  the  rose  of  the  hillside,"  rapturously 
apostrophized  the  king. 

"But  yet,"  resumed  Rustem,  "he  should  not 
grasp  her  from  the  king.  He  will  attend  me  here 
to-morrow,  and  you  shall  speak  with  him  as  you 
see  proper." 

"  We  will," answered  Sohrab.  "But  you  had 
better  prepare  the  .youth  ere  he  conies  hither. 
Let  him  understand  himself  thoroughly,  so  that 


I  shall  not  have  to  induct  him  into  the  first 
principles  of  obedience." 

"  I  will  prepare  him  for  the  interview,  sire." 
"  But  you  must  not  tell  him  of  his  parentage." 
"  Of  course  not,"  returned  Rustem  ;  "  for  we 
are  not  sure." 

"  O,  as  for  that  matter,  we  are  sure  enough," 
interrupted  Kanah.  "  If  you  should  lose  an  ar 
ticle  to-day,  and  in  twenty  years  hence  I  should 
find  one  looking  exactly  like  it,  and  at  the  same 
time  knowing  that  none  other  ever  existed  like  it, 
I  should  feel  sure  that  I  had  found  that  which 
you  had  lost.  Gushtasp  was  killed  close  by 
those  mountains,  and  his  wife  and  infant  boy 
were  with  him.  The  wife  fled  into  the  moun 
tains,  and  was  afterwards  found  dead.  To  be 
sure,  her  features  were  not  recognized,  for  the 
wild  beasts  had  made  horrid  work  there;  but 
her  jewels  were  found  and  recognized.  The  in 
fant  was  not  found.  If  you  remember  how  Gush 
tasp  looked,  you  must  know  that  Feridoon  is 
his  very  self." 

The  satrap  admitted  the  truth  of  appearances, 
and  shortly  afterwards  he  was  dismissed.  He 
took  his  way  towards  his  own  palace,  but  it  was 
not  without  many  misgivings,  for  he  knew  that 
he  had  truly  a  lion  heart  to  deal  with. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


AN    EXTRAORDINARY    SCENE. 


IT  was  dark  when  Eustem  reached  his  palace, 
and  he  found  that  Feridoon  had  already  retired, 
so  he  let  his  business  be  until  the  morning. 
When  morning  came,  he  repaired  to  the  youth's 
apartments,  and  found  his  charge  engaged  in 
reading.  His  first  aim  was  to  examine  more  par 
ticularly  Feridoon's  features  with  regard  to  his 
nativity.  He  was  surprised  to  find  how  true  a 
copy  were  those  features  of  the  features  of  him 
to  whom  allusion  had  been  made.  Eustem  had 
known  Gushtasp  well,  and  they  had  been  firm 
friends  while  the  latter  had  lived.  He  now 
knew  that  Feridoon  must  have  been  the  infant 
which  had  been  lost ;  but  his  thoughts  did  not 
stop  here. 

After  Eustem  had  passed  the  wishes  of  the 
morning  with  his  protege,  he  sat  down  and  pon 
dered  upon  a  new  subject  that  had  forced  itself 
upon  his  mind.  He  remembered  that  when  the 
former  king  died,  Gushtasp  had  been  murdered 
upon  the  de.sert,  and  he  wondered  if  Sohrab  had 
not  had  something  to  do  with  that  affair,  for  both 
he  and  Gushtasp  were  popular  generals,  though 
the  latter  was  the  favorite  of  both  soldiers  and 
people.  Had  Gushtasp  lived,  Sohrab  might  not 
have  been  king.  These  thoughts  led  Eustem 
into  a  chain  of  dark  surmises  ;  and  some  modes 
of  expression  which  he  had  heard  Sohrab  use 
served  to  strengthen  his  fears — for  he  did  fear 


that  his  king  had  been  guilty  of  a  great  crime. 
He  felt  sure  that  no  foul  measures  had  been 
used  with  Kei  Khosrou,  for  he  had  seen  the 
corse  lying  in  state,  and  there  were  no  marks  of 
violence  upon  it ;  but  he  could  not  feel  so  sure 
in  the  case  of  poor  Gushtasp,  for  he  had  been 
met  upon  the  desert,  while  travelling  home  with 
his  wife  and  child,  and  only  three  attendants, 
and  murdered.  The  circumstances  were  these  : 

The  general,  Gushtasp,  was  away  when  he 
heard  of  his  king's  death,  and  feeling  that  he 
had  something  to  do  with  government,  he  left 
his  army  and  hastened  towards  home;  but  in 
the  desert,  close  by  the  base  of  the  Hetzendarras, 
he  was  met  by  assassins  and  brutally  put  to 
death.  It  passed  at  the  time  as  the  doing  of 
robbers.  The  corse  of  the  murdered  general  was 
brought  to  the  city,  and  when  the  people  wept 
and  mourned  over  it,  all  knew  how  much  he  had 
been  beloved.  The  assassins  had  spared  his 
noble  features,  and  even  in  death  the  bold  gen 
eral  looked  the  hero  the  people  had  loved  to 
worship.  But  Sohrab  was  now  king  of  Persia, 
and  he  had  always  treated  Eustem  with  favor ; 
but  even  in  this  there  was  policy,  for  the  satrap 
was  influential,  and  his  influence  was  worth 
keeping. 

Thus  did  Eustem  arrive  at  two  points.  He 
believed  Feridoon  to  be  the  son  of  his  old  friend, 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


43 


and  he  feared  that  that  friend  had  fallen  by  the 
device  of  him  who  now  ruled  Persia ;  but  this 
latter  point  he  resolved  to  keep  most  sacredly  to 
himself. 

"  Feridoon,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  very  soon 
you  will  go  with  me  to  the  royal  palace." 

"I  am  ready,  for  I  promised  the  officer  yester 
day  that  I  would  see  the  king  to-day." 

"  But  do  you  realize,  my  son,  how  great  has 
been  your  offence  ?" 

"  That  I  have  made  the  king  very  wroth  I  am 
aware/' 

"  But  you  have  trampled  upon  his  authority." 
"  Let  the  king  point  out  to   me   how,  for  I 
would  have  no  contention  with  my  protector." 

"But  you  have  broken  our  laws,  and  are 
hence  liable  to  most  severe  punishment.     Yet 
on  one  condition  will  the  king  pardon  you." 
"  Ah  !  and  what  is  that  1" 
"  That  you  will  tell  him  where  the  damsel  is 
concealed,  and  relinquish  all  claim  upon  her." 
"I  shall  think  of  this." 

"  And  I  hope  you  will  think  well  of  it,  and 
remember  how  much  trouble  you  will  save  your 
self  by  simply  complying  with  our  king's  wishes. 
Surely  you  have  not  become  so  overpowered  by 
the  charms  of  the  poor  cobbler's  daughter  that 
you  cannot  give  her  up." 

"  There  are  two  sides  to  that  proposition,"  re 
turned  Feridoon,  with  a  smile.  "  I  am  young 
and  ardent,  while  the  king  is  old  and  satiated. 
Is  he  so  overpowered  by  the  charms  of  a  cobbler's 
daughter  that  he  cannot  give  her  up  V 
,  "  But  he  is  a  king,  and  his  will  is  law." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  so.  But  wait  until  I  see  .the 
king,  and  then  my  mind  will  be  made  up." 

"  But  you  understand  the  premises,  do  you 
not  V 

"  Perfectly." 
And  there  the  matter  rested,  for  Feridoon  was 
unwilling  to  argue  with  his  father,  and  the  latter 
did  not  wish  to  chafe  the  youth  before  they  wen 
to  the  royal  palace.  He  hoped  that  the  present 
and  authority  of  the  king  would  awe  the  offende 
into  submission.  . 

It  was  near  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  when 
Rustem  and  his  protege  set  out,  and  when  they 
reached  the  audience-chamber  of  the  royal  pal 
ace,  they  found  that  most  of  the  business  of  th 
day  had  been  transacted.     There  were  some  fe\\ 
cases  for  judgment  still  left,  but  the  king  sa\ 
the  youth  when  he   entered,  and  the  remaining 
business  was  quickly  despatched.     This  bein 
done,  the  king  dismissed  all  save  his  own  officer 


nd  attendants,  among  whom  were  Kanah  and 
rlanto,  and  then,  at  a  sign  from  his  majesty, 
lustem  and  Feridoon  advanced  to  the  marble 
>latform  in  front  of  the  throne. 

The  king  "gazed  long  and  earnestly  into  the 
ace  of  the  youth,  and  he  showed  by  his  counte- 
lance  that  he  was  deeply  moved.  At  length  he 
poke. 

"  You  are  called  Feridoon  ?" 
"lam,  king." 

Sohrab  started  when  he  heard  that  answer,  for 
not  before  in  a  long  time  had  he  been  answered 
so  boldly,  and  with  such  perfect  freedom  from 
all  restraint.  And  then  the  phraseology  was  un 
usual.  He  was  never  before  addressed  by  the 
mere  term,  king. 

'  You  were  at  the  house  of  the  cobbler,  Zak 
Turan,  yesterday1?" 

•'I  was." 

'  You  resisted  my  orders  and  killed  my  mes 
sengers." 

'  I  opposed  a  body  of  ruffians  who  would  have 
dragged  a  poor  female  from  her  home  against 
her  will." 

"  Beware  how  you  speak,"  uttered  the  king, 
rowing  angry. 

"  If  you  would  have  the  truth  from  me  yon 
must  not  cramp  my  tongue.  I  speak  as  I  have 
learned  to  do — with  freedom  and  boldness  when 
I  speak  the  truth." 

"  Did  not  these  men  whom  you  opposed  in 
form  you  that  they  came  from  the  king  ?" 

"  They  did." 

"  Then  you  knew  whom  you  were  resisting." 

"  But  you  forget,  king,  that  men  who  will 
stoop  to  such  work  might  also  lie." 

"  They  did  not  lie.  But  enough  of  this.  You 
saw  their  badges,  and  you  knew  they  came  from 
me.  Now  why  did  you  resist  them  ?" 

"Because  they  would  have  dragged  one 
whom  I  loved  to  ruin  and  misery." 

"  Ha  !     You  insult  me  now." 

"I  mean  no  insult:  I  speak  but  the  truth. 
If  you  sent  for  that  maiden,  then  what  would 
you  with  her  ?" 

"  Make  her  my  wife." 

"  But  she  refused  to  come  to  you,  and  told 
your  messengers  that  she  could  not,  and  when 
they  would  have  dragged  her  away  by  force,  she 
shrieked  aloud  for  mercy.  Would  you  have 
dragged  one  of  the  daughters  of  your  people 
ruthlessly  to  her  own  woe,  simply  to  gratify  a 
momentary  passion,  which  would  have  been 


44 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


transferred  to  another  in  one  short  month  at  the 
farthest  ?" 

"  I  would  have  made  the  damsel  my  wife. 
Kings  are  not  wont  to  ask  favors ;  they  command, 
and  the  people  obey." 

"  So  I  have  learned  you  look  upon  the  kingly 
office,"  returned  Feridoon,  gazing  boldly  and 
searchingly'into  the  king's  face,  "  but  not  so  can 
I  look  upon  it.  You  derived  your  power  from 
the  people,  for  by  their  will  alone  were  you 
placed  upon  the  throne  you  now  occupy.  A 
true  king  rules  for  the  people's  good,  and  his 
account  is  kept  by  God.  The  happiness  of  a 
single  subject '. is  worth  a  king's  utmost  care; 
but  O,  who  shall  believe  that  a  true  king  would 
blindly  follow  out  the  craving  of  depraved  pas 
sions,  even  when  sorrow  and  woe  must  fall  upon 
his  subjects  in  consequence "?" 

There  was  consternation  in  the  audience-cham 
ber.  The  attendants  were  astounded  to  hear  a 
simple  youth  speak  thus  to  the  king,  but  their 
looks  also  showed  that  they  deeply  sympathized 
with  every  word  that  had  been  uttered.  The 
king  himself  was  at  first  moved  by  rage  and  pas 
sion,  and  twice  did  his  hand  fall  upon  his  sword- 
hilt,  but  there  was  something  in  the  counte 
nance  of  the  youth  that  stayed  his  hand.  Per 
haps  his  thoughts  ran  back  to  the  time  when  a 
noble  general  fell  dead  on  the  hot  sands  of  the 
distant  desert,  and  mayhap  he  saw  so  much  of 
that  ill-fated  man  in  the  features  before  him, 
that  his  heart  was  moved  in  fear  and  remove. 

"  Let  this  folly  pass,"  the  monarch  at  length 
said.  "  Your  youth  is  some  extenuation  of  your 
tongue's  range.  But  now  we  come  to  another 
point,  and  you  will  do  well  to  consider  carefully 
upon  the  subject  ere  you  answer,  for  I  see  that 
you  have  a  habit  of  speaking  hastily.  Of  course 
you  know  where  the  damsel,  Zillah,  is  concealed." 

"  I  do  not,  sire." 

"  Speak  no  falsehoods." 

"I  have  not  yet  learned  to  speak  falsehood, 
king.  I  know  not  where  the  maiden  is." 

"  Do  you  know  which  way  she  went  ?" 

"I  do  not." 

"  But  you  will  know." 

"  I  have  had  the  promise  of  knowing." 

"  Ah,  that  will  answer.  Now  listen  to  me. 
Your  crime  has  been  one  which  richly  merits 
death,  and  it  has  been  but  the  most  unusual 
clemency  on  my  part  that  has  kept  the  stroke  of 
the  executioner  from  you,  and  on  these  condi 
tions  will  I  extend  to  you  a  full  pardon :  you 
shall  inform  me  where  Zillah  is  as  soon  as  you 


shall  have  learned,  and  you  shall  relinquish  all 
claim  to  her  hand  and  love." 

"  And  is  that  all  ?"  asked  the  youth,  with  a 
cutter  smile  breaking  the  calmness  that  had 
rested  upon  his  face. 

"  Upon  those  conditions  shall  a  full  pardon  be 
granted." 

"  King  of  Persia,"  spoke  the  youth,  in  a  firm, 
direct  tone,  "  I  saw  the  beautiful  Zillah  before 
you  did,  and  I  loved  her,  and  in  return  did  she 
love  me,  and  before  God  were  our  loves  made 
binding  upon  us  by  holy  vows.  Thus  my  right 
is  in  the  love  of  Zillah,  and  no  claim  have  you 
upon  her." 

"  Beware,  or  I  shall  yet  teach  thee  to  thy  cost 
that  kings  do  not  bow  to  the  caprices  of  such  as 
you." 

"  And  thou  shalt  know,  mighty  king,  that 
such  as  I  cannot  be  trampled  upon  even  by  him 
whom  people  call  sire.  Neither  will  I  tell  thee 
of  the  maiden's  abiding-place,  nor  will  I  give 
over  my  claim.  She  is  mine ;  and  before  my 
God  and  these  witnesses  here  assembled,  I  do 
accuse  you  of  the  most  gross  cruelty  and  injus 
tice.  I  shall  not  bow." 

Sohrab  sprang  from  his  seat  and  clapped  his 
hands.  His  face  was  very  pale,  and  his  teeth 
were  set.  At  the  signal  thus  given  a  dozen  stout 
slaves  appeared,  and  as  they  gathered  about  the 
king,  he  cried : 

"  Seize  the  traitor  and  bind  him  !" 

"  Hold  !"  cried  Feridoon,  starting  back  a  pace, 
and  drawing  his  sword ;  "  let  me  first  know  why 
I  am  to  be  bound." 

"  O,  my  child,"  implored  Rustem,  clasping 
his  hands  and  springing  towards  the  youth, 
"  make  no  resistance  here.  It  cannot  avail  you, 
the  archers  will  shoot  you." 

"  I  mean  not  to  resist,"  returned  Feridoon ; 
"  but  I  would  know  why  I  am  thus  to  be  bound. 
Speak,  king,  and  tell  me." 

"  Bind  him,  I  say  !" 

Feridoon  hesitated  an  instant,  and  then,  dash 
ing  aside  those  who  had  gathered  about  him,  he 
sprang  upon  the  throne  and  seized  the  king  by 
the  arm,  and  forced  him  back  upon  his  seat. 
Then  he  placed  the  point  of  his  sword  against 
the  monarch's  breast.  The  people  started  back 
aghast,  and  a  cry  of  horror  went  up  from  every 
lip. 

"Back,  back!"  pronounced  the  youth.  "I 
mean  the  king  no  harm ;  but  if  one  person  places 
his  foot  upon  the  lower  step  of  this  throne,  my 
sword  shall  sink  to  this  man's  heart.  Keep  back, 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


and  no  harm  shall  be  done ;  but  forward,  and 
you  shall  lose  your  king !" 

Those  people  who  saw  this  strange  movement 
knew  that  the  bold  youth  meant  what  he  said, 
and  they  dared  not  move.  The  king  himself 
was  sore  afraid,  but  he  could  not  move  ;  he  was 
held  down  by  a  grip  of  iron.  He  had  turned 
deadly  pale,  and  his  limbs  shook  with  terror. 

"Now,  king,"  spoke  Feridoon,  "answer  my 
question.  I  do  not  mean  to  resist  you,  but  I 
wish  to  know  why  I  am  to  be  seized,  and  also  to 
have  these  witnesses  now  present  know  it." 

"  Have  you  not  resisted  the  royal  authority  1" 
gasped  the  king. 

"  Yes  ;  but  that  is  not  the  direct  cause.  Is  it 
not  because  I  refuse  to  give  up  to  you  one  whom 
I  love  ?" 

The  king  did  not  answer.  . 

"Answer  me  !"  pronounced  the  youth,  with  a 
glance  that  thrilled  the  monarch  to  the  very  soul. 
"  Do  you  not  mean  to  imprison  me,  or  to  punish 
me,  because  I  will  not  give  up  to  you  a  virgin 
who  has  begged  of  me  to  protect  her  from  your 
embrace  ?  Answer  me." 

"  It  is  so.  I  gave  the  order  for  the  bringing 
hither  of  the  maiden,  and  you  resisted  it." 

"  Ay,"  resumed  Feridoon,  in  a  bitter  tone ; 
"  that  is  the  cause.  Now  listen,  ye  who  stand 
around  this  throne,  and  mark  what  justice  is 
done  in  Persia.  Let  the  people  know  how  stands 
the  law  of  eternal  justice  in  our  country.  Your 
king  made  his  way  in  disguise  to  the  home  of  a 
poor  cobbler,  and  there  his  eye  rested  upon  a 
beautiful  maiden,  who  was  the  joy  and  light  of 
that  lowly  household.  He — beware,  king.  If 
you  move  you  shall  die,  as  sure  as  God  is  ! — He 
went  in  there,  and  when  he  saw  that  lovely  dam- 


I  sel,  his  passions  were  fired,  and  he  resolved  to 
possess  her.  I  was  there.  The  girl  turned  her 
prayers  to  me,  and  begged  of  me  to  save  her.  I 
did  so,  for  I  loved  her,  and  she  was  my  own  be 
loved.  The  rest  you  know.  Tell  this  to  the 
world,  and  then  men  shall  know  what  kind  of  a 
king  they  have.  I  have  spoken,  and  now  I  shall 
make  no  more  resistance,  unless  my  life  is  at 
tempted." 

As  Feridoon  thus  spoke,  he  let  go  his  hold 
upon  the  king,  and  stepped  down  from  the 
throne.  For  a  while  not  a  word  was  spoken. 
Those  'who  stood  around  looked  furtively  at  the 
monarch,  and  then  they  gazed  upon  each  other. 
The  daring  youth  had  placed  his  sword  in  its 
scabbard,  and  now  stood  with  his  arms  folded 
across  his  breast.  But  the  king  soon  came  to 
himself.  He  started  up  again,  and  in  a  hoarse, 
rattling  tone,  he  said  : 

"  Bind  him,  now  !" 

Thus  he  spoke,  and  then  sank  back  again 
upon  his  throne.  The  stout  slaves  moved  up, 
and  Feridoon  offered  no  resistance.  Heavy 
chains  were  placed  upon  his  wrists,  and  these 
were  again  secured  about  his  waist. 

"  Now  lead  him  to  one  of  the  strongest  of  our 
dungeons.  Off  with  him,  and  when  this  cloud 
has  rolled  from  our  mind,  we  will  give  him  sen 
tence.  Rustem,  you  will  remain,  and  you,  Ka- 
nah,  I  would  speak  with  you." 

The  youth  was  led  away,  and  shortly  after 
wards  the  attendants  left  the  audience-chamber, 
only  the  king's  eunuchs  and  the  satrap  and  coun 
sellor  remaining.  With  the  latter  Sohrab  wish 
ed  to  confer  respecting  the  extraordinary  scene 
that  had  just  transpired. 


CHAPTER  X. 


PLOT   AND    COUNTERPLOT. 


FERIDOON  was  plunged  into  a  deep,  dark 
dungeon,  and  there  he  was  told  he  should  remain 
until  he  had  promised  to  reveal  the  hiding-place 
of  Zillah,  and  also  to  relinquish  all  claims  to  her 
hand.  After  what  had  happened,  Rustem  did 
not  dare  to  interfere  in  any  way,  for  he  well 
knew  that  the  king  would  brook  nothing  of  the 
kind.  He  was  grieved  to  know  that  his  protege 
was  thus  imprisoned,  but  all  he  dared  to  ask  was 
to  be  admitted  to  see  him.  The  king  informed 
him  if  he  would  use  his  influence  to  bring  the 
youth  to  terms,  he  might  have  passage  to  the 
dungeon.  The  satrap  readily  promised  this,  for 
it  had  been  his  own  purpose  to  do  that  same 
thing. 

"  But  he  shall  wait  awhile  first,"  said  the  king. 
"  He  shall  first  taste  of  the  prison,  and  then  he 
may  be  more  pliant." 

So  the  satrap  had  to  wait  a  week,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time  he  went  to  see  the  youth.  He 
found  him  in  good  health,  with  his  spirit  broken 
not  at  all.  After  embracing  him,  and  explain 
ing  how  things  were  going  on  in  the  world  with 
out,  he  came  to  the  principal  object  of  his  visit. 
He  did  not  at  first  state  what  the  king  had  said, 
but  upon  his  own  responsibility  did  he  urge  the 
youth  to  give  up  all  ideas  of  claiming  Zillah's 
love,  to  give  her  up  to  the  king,  and  promise  to 
make  known  her  place  of  concealment  as  soon 
as  he  should  discover  it.  But  all  was  of  no 


avail.  Feridoon  would  not  give  up  one  point  of 
the  position  he  had  taken.  Rustem  urged  and 
argued,  begged  and  entreated,  but  the  youth  was 
firm. 

"  But,"  said  the  satrap,  "  you  may  be  sure 
that  the  king  will  keep  you  here  until  you  com 
ply  with  his  wishes,  even  though  you  spend  your 
life  here.  Now,  once  more,  listen  to  me.  Under 
no  circumstances  can  you  hope  to  enjoy  this 
damsel.  If  you  relinquish  your  right  to  her 
love,  you  will  lose  her,  I  know — and  so  you  will 
if  you  remain  here.  And  now  see  the  reason  to 
obey  the  wishes  of  our  monarch.  By  so  doing 
you  will  go  forth  to  liberty,  and  then  you  will 
soon  find  some  other  maiden  who  will  make  you 
happy  with  her  love.  Be  guided  by  me." 

"  Ah,  my  friend,"  replied  Feridoon,  with  a 
smile,  "  I  can  take  my  liberty  whenever  I  wish. 
They  think  I  am  stoutly  chained ;  so  I  am.  But 
see."  And  as  he  spoke,  he  slipped  the  irons 
easily  over  his  hands.  "  You  see  my  hand  is  no 
bigger  than  my  wrist.  Now,  with  these  irons 
off,  how  easily  can  I  overcome  my  keeper  when 
he  comes  with  provision,  and  then  make  my  es 
cape.  But  I  do  not  wish  to  do  so  now.  Yet  do 
not  urge  me  any  more  on  this  point,  for  I  will 
not  tear  out  the  very  joy  and  life  of  my  soul  to 
please  a  wicked  king.  I  am  firm." 

Rustem  spent  much  more  time  in  arguing  the 
point,  but  he  at  length  turned  away  in  despair. 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


47 


He  did  not  go  as  he  came,  however.  From  ar 
gument  and  persuasion  he  passed  to  the  authori 
ty  of  a  parent.  He  commanded  the  youth  to 
obey,  and  when,  after  much  such  commanding, 
Feridoon  remained  still  firm,  he  became  angry. 
He  spoke  hotly  to  the  young  man,  but  he  receiv 
ed  only  cool,  calm  words  in  reply.  At  length 
the  satrap  went  away,  and  his  soul  was  angry 
when  he  turned  from  the  dungeon.  One  of  the 
most  ancient  and  binding  customs  of  the  times 
was  the  obedience  of  children  to  the  commands 
of  parents,  and  Rustem  now  became  nearly  as 
wroth  as  the  king  had  been,  and  he  told  Feri- 
doon  that  he  was  a  wicked,  ungrateful  child, 
and  that  no  punishment  could  be  more  severe 
than  he  deserved. 

The  youthful  prisoner  had  cared  but  little  for 
the  anger  of  the  king,  but  he  was  deeply  grieved 
when  he  found  that  his  protector  was  also  angry, 
and  when  he  was  left  once  more  alone,  he  wept. 
But  when  he  came  to  reflect  that  right  and  jus 
tice  were  on  his  side,  he  soon  forgot  his  pain, 
and  contented  himself  with  knowing  that  he  had 
done  nothing  which  his  inmost  soul  told  him 
was  wrong. 

And  now  how  moved  matters  in  the  world 
•without  the  prison  ? 

The  news  of  the  imprisonment  of  Feridoon 
soon  spread  throughout  the  great  city,  and  peo 
ple  had  the  whole  story  by  heart.  The  scene 
that  had  transpired  in  the  audience-chamber  had 
been  all  made  known,  and  painted  in  its  most 
thrilling  colors,  and  the  people  had  learned  all 
the  circumstances  which  had  led  to  it.  Zak  Tu- 
ran  was  a  man  generally  known  in  the  place, 
and  he  was  as  generally  beloved,  and  of  course 
the  sympathies  of  the  populace  were  with  him, 
his  fair  daughter  and  Feridoon.  Sohrab  was 
feared,  but  never  loved,  and  some  of  the  bolder 
of  the  people  took  up  the  matter  and  made 
speech  upon  it  at  the  street  corners  and  in  the 
market-place.  And  then  there  was  one  other 
source  of  excitement — a  source  of  which  the 
king  little  dreamed,  and  of  which  the  reader 
shall  soon  know. 

One  day  (it  was  eight  days  after  Feridoon  had 
been  thrown  into  prison)  the  king  sat  all  alone 
in  one  of  his  own  apartments.  He  had  been 
sitting  thus  for  half  an  hour,  and  during  that 
time  his  lips  had  been  moving  with  incoherent, 
half-uttered  sentences.  Thus  he  sat,  when  an 
attendant  announced  that  Kanah  was  in  waiting. 
The  old  counsellor  was  at  once  admitted,  and 
there  was  trouble  upon  his  countenance  when  he 
entered,  which  the  king  at  once  saw. 


"  How  now,  good  Kanah?  No  tidings  of  evil, 
I  hope." 

The  counsellor  seemed  to  have  had  his  course 
all  marked  out  before  he  entered  the  royal  pres 
ence,  for  he  at  once  said  : 

"  Sire,  are  you  determined  to  prosecute  your 
claim  to  the  daughter  of  Zak  TuranT" 

"  Of  a  verity  I  am,  good  Kanah,"  quickly  an 
swered  the  king.  "  By  my  very  life,  that  girl's 
beauty  haunts  me  night  and  day.  I  must  have 
her.  And  then,  again,  I  have  another  reason. 
I  will  not  be  thwarted  in  my  first  purpose.  By 
the  heavens,  Kanah,  I  should  not  survive  the 
chagrin  of  being  overcome  in  so  simple  a  plan." 

"  And  yet,  sire,  the  youth,  Feridoon,  must  be 
liberated." 

"  Not  until  he  does  my  bidding." 

"But  your  throne  is  not  safe  now.  All 
through  the  city  the  thing  is  making  noise,  and 
the  people  are  angry  at  what  you  have  done." 

"  Then  lash  them  into  quiet !" 

"  That  may  not  be  so  easily  done.  The  peo 
ple  have  now  become  like  a  man  suffering  under 
some  delicate  malady  which  must  be  ministered 
to  with  care  and  caution.  They  sympathize  with 
Feridoon,  and  as  openly  do  they  denounce  your 
majesty." 

"  Ha  !  do  they  dare  1" 

"  Yes  ;  and  they  even  threaten." 

"  Not  me — the  king  ?" 

"Ay — yourself,  sire.  But  this  is  not  all.  They 
have  a  most  strange  and  powerful  ally  in  the 
person  of  Kobad,  the  astrologer.  You  have 
heard  of  him  ?" 

"Ay,  I  have,"  returned  the  king;  "yet  I 
never  saw  him.  But  what  does  he  ?" 

"  He  has  preached  to  the  people,  and  shown 
them  how  you  oppress  them  ;  and  in  the  present 
case  he  has  told  them  that  Feridoon  is  one 
raised  up  of  God  on  purpose  to  save  his  people." 

"  Ha  !  And  does  the  arch-traitor  sow  rebel 
lion  so  boldly  ?" 

"  He  does,  sire ;  and  the  people  swallow  it 
most  readily.  At  the  street-corners  and  in  the 
market-place  he  makes  much  speech." 

"  Then  why  did  ye  not  stay  the  rebel  V 

"  I  have  had  no  chance." 

"  And  my  officers — why  have  they  not  brought 
him  before  me  ?" 

"For  fear  of  arousing  the  people.  It  is  true, 
sire,  that  they  are  already  chafed  and  sore,  and 
many  of  your  officers  are  with  them." 

The  king  started  from  his  chair,  and  would 


48 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


have  launched  forth  into  a  furious  strain  had  not 
the  counsellor  interrupted  him. 

"  Sire,"  he  resumed,  in  a  persuasive,  but  yet 
firm  tone,  "  I  have  been  planning  for  you.  In 
the  first  place  a  rebellion  of  this  sort  may  be 
quelled  more  easily  by  removing  the  cause  than 
in  any  other  way.  Now  if  you  release  Feridoon 
from  prison  you  will  gain  two  points.  First, 
you  will  remove  much  of  the  cause  of  ill-feeling 
among  the  people ;  and,  second,  you  may  thus 
find  the  damsel  you  seek." 

"  Ah,"  uttered  the  king,  stopping  in  his  walk 
and  seating  himself  again ;  "  how  can  that  be  ?" 

"  Set  the  youth  at  liberty,  and  then  watch  him. 
In  all  probability  he  will  soon  make  his  way  to 
the  place  where  the  damsel  is  concealed,  and  if 
he  is  watched,  as  he  may  be,  of  course  you  will 
thus — " 

"  I  see,  I  see,"  exclaimed  the  king.  "  By  my 
life,  it  shall  be  done.  The  youth  shall  go — and 
the  lovely  Zillah  shall  be  mine.  But^mark  me, 
Kanah,  I'll  brook  no  more  of  this  sedition.  My 
soldiers  shall  be  set  upon  the  guard  over  these 
unruly  tongues,  and  death  shall  most  surely  fall 
upon  him  who  dares  speak  thoughts  of  rebellion. 
But  your  plan  shall  be  followed,  and  you  shall 
have  more  work  yet.  Take  eight  of  my  most 
trusty  eunuchs,  and  set  them  upon  the  watch 
over  the  youth's  movements.  They  are  keen, 
quick-witted  fellows,  and  they  will  know  how  to 
work.  Just  give  them  their  cue,  and  the  rest 
may  devolve  upon  them  without  fear." 

"  I  will  do  your  bidding,  sire." 

"  And  fetch  me  this  astrologer,  too,  Kanah. 
By  heavens !  bring  him  to  me  and  I  will  put 
him  upon  the  speech  of  his  life." 

"  It  must  be  as  you  say,  sire ;  and  still  I  would 
recommend  that  he  be  not  molested  yet.  The 
people  love  him,  for  he  is  kind  to  them,  and  has 
taught  them  much;  and  I  have  heard  that  to 
him  is  this  same  Zillah  indebted  for  her  superior 
attainments.  He  has  been  her  constant  tutor  for 
several  years." 

"  And  shall  I,  a  king,  submit  to  such  things  1" 

"  Nay,  sire,  by  no  means.  But  wait  and  see 
what  effect  the  liberation  of  the  young  prisoner 
has." 

The  king  consented,  after  a  while,  so  to  do ; 
but  he  saw  that  his  counsellor  had  more  yet  to 
say,  and  he  urged  him  to  speak. 

"  You  must  bear  with  me,  sire,  and  know  that 


I  simply  speak  for  your  good,"  said  Kanah,  with 
evident  reluctance. 

"  Speak  on." 

"  Then,  my  king,  why  not  give  over  this  pur 
suit  after  the  damsel  ?" 

"How,  Kanah?  Give  up  Zillah,  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"  Yes."' 

"  By  my  life,  no !  Sooner  shall  half  my  king 
dom  sink  to  everlasting  ruin !  She  must  be 
mine,  for  I  love  her ;  and  I  will  not  be  turned 
from  my  purpose  by  the  rabble.  Now  urge  this 
point  no  more." 

Kanah  knew  that  urging  would  be  useless,  and 
he  let  the  matter  drop,  and  shortly  afterwards  he 
went  away  with  the  order  for  Feridoon's  release. 
He  went  himself  to  the  dungeon,  and  he  found  the 
prisoner  just  eating  his  supper.  He  told  the 
youth  that  he  was  free,  and  when  the  latter  asked 
to  know  why  he  was  thus  liberated,  he  was  told 
that  the  king  had  resolved  to  let  the  matter  drop. 

"  And,"  continued  Kanah,  "  I  trust  you  will 
be  wise  in  future,  and,  for  the  sake  of  peace, 
sacrifice  a  little  of  your  own  personal  desire." 

"  But  the  king  has  not  found  Zillah — the  dam 
sel  of  whom  such  mention  has  been  made  V  ut 
tered  Feridoon  in  tones  of  sudden  fear. 

"  No ;  he  is  making  no  search  for  her." 

With  this  assurance  Feridoon  left  the  prison, 
and  made  his  way  at  once  to  his  protector's 
dwelling.  Rustem  was  of  course  much  surprised 
at  seeing  the  youth,  and  it  was  some  time  before 
he  could  be  made  to  believe  that  he  had  been  set 
at  liberty  by  order  of  the  king,  but  when  he  did 
realize  that  his  protege  had  been  really  set  free 
by  royal  will,  he  did  not  exhibit  that  deep  joy 
which  Feridoon  had  anticipated.  Our  hero  was 
not  long  in  arriving  at  the  conclusion  that  his 
father  was  yet  angry  with  him,  and  without  fur 
ther  remark  he  went  at  once  to  his  own  apart 
ments. 

The  youth's  servants  had  learned  of  their  mas 
ter's  arrival,  and  they  crowded  about  him  with 
wild,  unfeigned  joy.  This  made  our  hero  happy, 
for  he  had  found  friends,  and  he  stopped  not  to 
inquire  in  his  heart  how  stood  their  rank.  He 
enjoyed  their  truth  and  devotion,  and  he  balanced 
them  in  the  scale  of  his  own  judgment,  and  they 
proved  to  be  better  men  than  many  who  might 
buy  and  sell  them. 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE    CAVE. — CLOUDS. 


PERIDOON  had  not  been  in  his  apartment  ten 
minutes  ere  he  was  both  surprised  and  pleased 
by  the  entrance  of  Kobad,  the  astrologer.  He 
started  quickly  forward  to  embrace  the  venerable 
sage,  and  when  he  had  done  this,  he  wished  to 
know  how  the  intelligence  of  his  release  was  so 
quickly  spread. 

"  I  saw  you  dome  from  the  palace/'  returned 
Kobad.  And  then  he  wished  to  know  upon 
what  terms  the  release  had  been  made. 

Feridoon  explained  it  all — related  au  that  Ka- 
nah  had  told  him,  also  how  lie  had  been  treated 
in  his  prison  house. 

"And  now,"  he  said,  with  much  earnestness, 
"  may  I  not  see  Zillah  ?" 

The  old  man  was  silent  for  a  few  moments. 

"  You  will  not  refuse  me  ?" 

"  No,  no,"  slowly  and  thoughtfully  pronounced 
the  sage.  "But  that  the  king  has  given  up  the 
idea  of  obtaining  Zillah,  I  do  not  believe.  You, 
my  son,  have  been  released  only  that  he  may 
find  her  the  more  speedily.  He  knows  you  will 
find  her  if  you  can,  and  his  spies  will  track  yotf 
to  her  place  of  refuge.  Do  you  not  see  it  ?" 

"  I  see  that  such  may  be  the  case,"  replied  the 
youth. 

"  Ay — and  we  must  be  governed  as  though 
we  knew  it  were  the  case.  You  shall  see  Zillah 
to-night,  but  we  must  move  carefully.  8>he,  pow 


girl,  needs  to  see  you  much,  for  her  fear  for  you? 
safety  has  been  great,  nor  could  all  my  positive 
assurances  give  her  soul  peace  or  quiet." 

This  served  to  make  the  youth  more  anxious 
to  set  out,  and  it  was  at  length  arranged  that 
Feridoon  should  disguise  himself  as  an  old  man, 
and  then  start  as  soon  as  it  should  become  dark. 
The  astrologer  took  it  upon  himself  to  procure 
the  disguise,  and  to  this  end  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  depart  at  once.  It  was  just  nightfall 
when  he  returned,  and  he  brought  with  him  the 
garb  and  the  white  wig  and  flowing  beard  of  an 
old  man.  The  ardent  youth  quickly  clothed 
himself,  and  having  promised  not  to  let  his  gait 
betray  him,  Kobad  started  to  lead  the  way. 

Instead  of  passing  directly  out  into  the  street, 
Ivobad  led  the  way  out  through  the  gardens  back 
of  the  Satrap's  palace,  and  entered  not  a  street 
till  he  had  left  the  palace  a  mile  behind  him, 
FeridoOn  walked  with  a  stout  staff,  and  he  took 
good  care  to  stoop  and  shuffle  along,  so  that  his 
gait  might  not  belie  his  white  beard  and  flowing 
garb.  Had  our  two  adventurers  stopped  and 
listened  attentively,  they  might  at  times  have  de 
tected  a  stealthy  footstep  near  them1,  and  had 
they  been  able  to  observe  everything  about  them, 
they  might  have  seen  a  dark  figure  crouching 
away  continually  in  the  darkest  places,  but  still 
hanging  upo-n  their  footsteps.  But  they  neithe? 


60 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


heard  nor  saw  anything  to  give  them  alarm. 
They  felt  sure  that  with  such  precautions  as 
they  had  taken,  they  were  safe, 

After  Kobad  had  passed  beyond  t*he  point 
where  the  officers  of  the  king  were  in  the  habit 
of  ending  their  excursions,  he  quickened  his  pace. 
His  course  was  towards  the  northwestern  section 
of  the  city,  and  in  three  hours  from  the  time  of 
starting,  he  came  to  the  confines  of  the  town, 
which  at  that  point  were  flanked  by  high,  per 
pendicular  cliffs,  all  jagged  and  broken  by  abrupt 
angles  and  huge  masses  of  fallen  rock.  Here 
the  astrologer  gazed  carefully  about  him,  but  he 
saw  no  one,  and  yet,  not  far  off  to  the  right,  be 
hind  a  projecting  mass  of  rock,  there  was  some 
thing  that  had  life  and  motion.  A  dark  object 
had  glided  in  there  only  half  a  minute  before  the 
sage  made  his  survey. 

Kobad's  next  movement  was  to  pass  on  to 
where  a  thick  clump  of  wild  mulberry  bushes 
grew,  and  having  worked  his  way  through  these 
he  came  to  a  small  deposit  of  sand  which  ap 
peared  once  to  have  been  the  bed  of  a  stream  or 
pool.  Here  he  waited  until  Feridoon  was  by  his 
side,  and  then  he  brushed  away  a  lot  of  sand 
close  by  the  point  of  a  stone  that  projected  out 
in  a  shaft  from  the  adjoining  cliff,  and  having 
done  this  a  ring  of  iron  was  revealed.  This  he 
seized,  and  by  it  he  raised  a  trap  door  of  wood, 
revealing  thus  an  aperture  some  three  feet  square, 
at  the  mouth  of  which  appeared  some  steps 
which  were  also  of  wood.  He  bade  the  youth 
pass  down  and  then  he  followed,  carefully  clos 
ing  the  door  behind  him. 

These  steps  were  only  six  in  number,  and 
when  our  hero  had  reached  the  bottom  of  them 
he  found  himself  obliged  to  stoop  slightly  in 
order  to  avoid  the  rock  which  formed  the  ceiling 
of  the  passage,  for  a  passage  it  must  be,  since 
he  could  feel  the  solid  rock  upon  both  hands. 
As  soon  as  Kobad  had  closed  the  door  and  come 
down,  he  took  the  youth  by  the  hand,  and  having 
bidden  him  to  stoop,  he  passed  on  slowly,  mak 
ing  several  abrupt  turns,  until  at  length  he 
reached  a  point  where  tiny  rays  of  light  could 
be  seen  shining  through  chinks  in  the  rock. 
Here  Kobad  stopped  and  kicked  With  his  sandal, 
and  in  a  moment  more  a  door  opened  and — 
Feridoon  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  Zillah. 

There  was  a  quick  cry  of  joy  from  the  lips  of 
the  lovely  maiden,  a  low  murmur  of  love  from 
the  enraptured  youth,  and  then  those  loving 
hearts  were  pressed  together,  and  their  beatings 
of  love  were  accompanied  by  bright,  warm  tears 
of  pure  and  holy  joy. 


"  And  you  are  free — free  from  the  power  of 
the  unholy  king,"  murmured  Zillah,  as  she 
gased  up  into  the  face  of  her  lover. 

"  Yes,  light  of  my  soul ;  and  how  blessed  is 
that  freedom,  since  it  brings  me  to  thee  S" 

"  Ah,  my  soul's  master,"  returned  Zillah, 
with  sparkling  eyes  and  waking  smiles,  "  how 
lovely  becomes  this  cave  in  the  rock  when  you 
are  with  me.  Until  now  it  has  been  dark  and 
cheerless,  and  my  soul  has  been  heavy  and  sad, 
for  fear  of  harm  to  thee  has  dwelt  heavily  upon 
me.  But  joy  cometh  now." 

Thus  spoke  the  lovers,  and  when  their  passions 
had  become  more  calm,  Feridoon  turned  to  Zak 
Turan  and  his  wife.  They  were  both  well  and 
in  good  humor,  and  the  joy  they  experienced  at 
seeing  the  youth  was  too-  plainly  written  upon 
their  faces  to  admit  any  doubt  touching  its  reali 
ty.  There  was  also  a  black  slave  in  the  cave ; 
he  was  a  faithful  servant  whom  the  astrologer 
had  provided. 

As  soon  as  Feridoon  had  time  to  look  about 
him,  he  saw  that  the  strange  apartment  to  which 
he  had  been  thus  conducted,  owed  nothing  to  tho 
art  of  man  save  the  concealment  of  the  entrance 
and  the  wooden  steps.  It  was  a  single  cham 
ber,  some  thirty  feet  square,  with  walls  very 
regular  in  their  angles  and  surfaces,  and  not  far 
from  twenty  feet  high.  The  ceiling  was  rough 
and  jagged,  the  rock  hanging  therefrom  in  points 
and  curiously  stellated  forms,  While  in  the  back 
part  there  was  a  long  fissure  through  which  the 
place  was  ventilated,  and  which  in  the  daytime 
admitted  light.  This  aperture  opened  outside 
upon  the  face  of  the  cliff  opposite  from  the  city, 
and  at  a  point  almost  inaccessible,  so  that  there 
was  no  danger  of  the  place  being  discovered 
from  that  quarter. 

Upon  inquiry  our  hero  was  told  that  this  cave 
had  been  found  only  a  few  years  previously,  and 
that  none  living,  save  those  now  present,  knew 
of  its  existence.  Nearly  two  hours  were  passed 
by  Feridoon  in  sweet  conversation  with  Zillah, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time  the  youth  turned  to 
wards  the  venerable  sage,  for  there  were  some 
doubts  upon  his  mind  he  would  have  cleared  up. 

"  My  father,"  he  said,  "  it  surely  seems  a 
safe  place  here  for  our  friends — safe  from  the 
immediate  power  of  the  wicked  king — but  what 
is  to  be  in  the  future  ?  How  are  we  ever  to  find 
safety  for  them  in  any  other  place  ?  For  surely 
we  cannot  imagine  that  a  life  can  be  blessed  with 
much  joy  that  is  forced  to  spend  itself  here." 

"  Most  assuredly  not,"  replied  the  astrologer  ' 


THE  KING  AND   COBBLER. 


51 


**  and  I  trust  that  they  will  not  be  forced  long 
to  remain  here." 

The  youth  gazed  into  Kobad's  face,  in  hopes 
that  he  would  say  more,  but  he  did  not,  so  he 
asked  further : 

"  But  how  shall  they  find  safety  to  live  in  the 
city,  or  even  within  the  kingdom,  as  other  peo 
ple  do  ?" 

Feridoon  waited  some  moments,  but  the  old 
man  did  not  answer ;  and  he  continued : 

"  The  king,  if  your  suspicions  are  correct,  still 
means  to  seize  upon  Zillah  whenever  he  can." 

"  I  am  sure  he  does,"  Kobad  said. 

"  Then  how — tell  me  if  you  know — how,  oh 
how,  shall  our  lovely  Zillah  find  safety  from  his 
wicked  arts,  were  she  to  remove  back  into  the 
city  V 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you  now,"  an 
swered  Kobad,  with  his  head  bowed,  and  his 
hand  pressed  hard  upon  his  brow.  "  Yet  I  feel 
that  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  that  season 
of  safety  shall  come.  My  son,"  he  continued, 
while  his  voice  sank  to  a  low,  thrilling  tone,  and 
his  eyes  were  raised  partly  heavenward,  "  I  can 
see  in  the  future  many  things  that  are  hidden 
from  you,  and  from  other  mortals.  I  can  see 
storms  and  tempests  ;  and  I  can  see  sunshine 
and  calms  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  all  I  can  see  a 
spirit  of  bright  presence  that  holds  the  destiny 
of  the  beautiful  Zillah  in  its  hand.  I  may  not 
read  the  future  to  you  now,  but  be  assured  that 
to  me  the  scroll  is  opened  and  that  I  can  read 
its  import  faithfully.  You  may  hope  for  the 
best,  and  unless  some  darker  power  than  any  I 
now  see  shall  arise  upon  the  scene,  all  will  be 
well." 

Feridoon  pondered  awhile  upon  these  words, 
and  he  concluded  to  ask  no  more  questions.  If 
the  astrologer  meant  him  well,  then  he  knew 
enough  already ;  and  if  evil  was  meant,  then 
surely  questions  would  be  of  no  avail.  But  upon 
this  latter  proposition  his  mind  only  glanced 
upon  an  idea  which  flitted  by  in  the  usual  course 
of  thought,  for  he  felt  no  more  fear  of  evil  in 
tent  in  the  soul  of  Kobad  than  he  did  of  falsehood 
in  the  breast  of  his  own  beloved.  Yet  he  was 
anxious — he  was  anxious  for  the  time  when  he 
could  call  Zillah  his  own  and  have  no  fears  come 
to  mar  his  peace. 

And  it  is  not  strange  that  he  should  have  still 
experienced  some  anxiety  respecting  the  final 
consummation  of  this  good,  for  he  could  not  con 
ceive  how  it  was  to  be  done.  Yet  he  resolved 
to  trust  his  aged  friend,  and  school  his  heart  to 


rest  content  with  the  assurance  he  had  just   re 
ceived. 

At  length  Kobad  arose  and  signified  his  pur 
pose  of  retiring.  Feridoon  drew  Zillah  upon  his 
bosom  and  spoke  a  few  more  hurried  words  of 
love,  and  then  he  was  ready  to  depart.  He  re 
placed  the  false  beard  and  hair  upon  his  face  and 
head,  and  having  taken  his  staff  he  followed  Ko 
bad  from  the  place,  with  the  promise,  however, 
that  on  the  second  night  from  that  he  should 
visit  his  loved  one  again. 

When  Feridoon  reached  the  surface  of  the 
earth  once  more,  he  found  that  dark  clouds  were 
rising  up  into  the  heavens  from  the  westward, 
and  that  they  had  already  drawn  their  sombre 
veils  over  most  of  the  stars.  He  turned  his  gaze 
upon  the  high  cliffs  behind  him,  and  a  strange 
awe  crept  over  his  soul  as  he  saw  how  black 
and  drear  they  lifted  their  rugged  peaks  against 
the  clouded  sky.  Not  far  from  him,  where  a 
mass  of  disconnected  rocks  seemed  ready  to 
come  tumbling  down  upon  iiim,  there  was  an 
object  that  might  have  startled  him  had  he  given 
it  particular  note.  It  did  not  move,  nor  did  it 
look  unlike  the  small  columns  of  dark  granite 
that  surrounded  it,  and  yet  a  very  close  observer 
would  have  been  struck  with  the  strange  resenv 
blance  which  that  object  bore  to  the  human 
form.  And  more  than  this  :  had  Feridoon  been 
perfectly  versed  in  each  separate  conformation 
of  the  rocks  about  that  spot,  he  would  have  seen 
that  this  one  must  have  become  located  there 
very  recently,  for  surely  there  was  no  such  thing 
there  three  hours  before  ! 

But  the  clouds  rolled  up  into  the  heavens 
more  heavily  and  gloomy,  and  the  aoul  of  the 
youth  became  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  disquiet 
amounting  to  a  strange  sort  of  dread. 

"  These  clouds  are  fortunate,"  remarked  Ko 
bad,  after  they  had  started  on  their  way,  "  for 
now  the  darkness  will  most  safely  hide  us  from 
the  gaze  of  any  who  may  cross  us  on  our  way." 

"But  they  affect  me  strangely,"  returned  Feri 
doon,  in  a  low,  nervous  tone. 

"  How  so  ?"  asked  the  sage. 

"  They  throw  a  leaden  weight  upon  my  soul, 
and  seem  to  obscure  the  brightness  I  had  learned 
my  hopes  to  dwell  in." 

"  That  is  a  mere  whim.  To  your  young  and 
ardent  feelings  everything  should  be  bright  and 
joyous,  but  when  you  are  older  you  shall  find 
that  clouds  are  not  easily  dispensed  with,  even  in 
our  own  hopes  and  aspirations.  One  continuous 
glare  of  light  would  be  tiresome  to  the  vision, 


52 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLEK. 


and  one  unbroken  chain  of  joy  would  soon  cloy 
the  senses.  Clouds  are  but  the  relief  given  by 
an  all-wise  Maker  to  throw  the  better  parts  of 
life's  picture  more  vividly  out." 

"  True/'  answered  Feridoon.  "  I  know  what 
you  mean ;  but  now  my  soul  is  really  oppressed." 

"  Then  rise  above  it.  Shake  off  the  fear,  and 
smile  with  the  hopes  I  would  give  you." 

The  youth  made  no  answer  to  this  remark, 
but  with  his  head  bowed  and  his  hands  clasped 
behind  him  he  followed  on  by  the  side  of  his 
friend.  He  would  have  been  cheerful  if  he  could, 
but  he  could  not. 

At  length  they  reached  the  palace  of  the  sa 
trap,  and  as  it  was  near  morning,  Kobad  accept 
ed  the  youth's  invitation  to  remain  with  him 
awhile  and  sleep.  Feridoon  called  one  of  his 
attendants  and  bade  him  keep  watch  near  the 
door,  and  not  to  allow  him  to  be  disturbed  until 
the  sun  should  have  been  up,  at  least,  three 
hours. 

And  both  the  old  man  and  the  young  retired. 
The  sage  soon  fell  asleep,  and  his  rest  was  sure 
and  sound,  j^fot  so  the  youth.  He  closed  his 
eyes,  but  sleep  "would  not  come  to  him.  There 


was  another  idea  in  possession  of  his  faculties". 
Once  his  senses  became  lost  beneath  a  drowsy 
weight,  but  no  sooner  were  the  actual  things  of 
life  shut  out,  than  he  began  to  dream.  He  was 
again  in  the  cave  with  Zillah,  and  while  he 
pressed  her  to  his  bosom  he  was  aroused  by  a 
loud,  rumbling  noise,  and  upon  looking  up  he 
saw  the  top  of  the  cave  open,  and  an  enormous 
afrite  came  down  and  seized  upon  Zillah  and 
bore  her  away  from  him.  He  cried  out  so  loud 
that  cne  of  his  slaves  came  to  his  bedside  to  see 
what  was  the  matter.  The  youth  grasped  the 
poor  fellow  by  the  neck,  and  would  most  assur 
edly  have  strangled  him  had  not  a  sense  of  his 
real  situation  come  opportunely  to  his  mind. 
When  he  first  saw  that  black  face  bending  over 
him  he  only  remembered  the  foul  afrite  of  whom 
he  had  just  dreamed. 

At  length,  however,  just  as  the  heavy  clouds 
which  had  been  gathering  in  the  heavens  began 
to  empty  themselves  upon  the  earth  in  quick- 
falling  drops,  he  sank  into  a  deeper  slumber, 
and  the  fatigue  of  the  body  overcame  for  a  while 
the  vagaries  of  the  mind. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


IN   THE    TOILS.j 


AFIEK  Feridoon  and  Kobad  had  left  the  cave, 
the  inmates  spent  some  little  time  in  conversing 
upon  the  subject  that  had  been  broached  by  the 
youth.  Zillah  seemed  to  have  hung  with  much 
anxiety  upon  the  answers  of  the  astrologer,  for 
she  had  a  deep  interest  therein. 

"  My  father,"  she  said,  addressing  Zak  Turan, 
"  why  will  you  not  tell  me  the  secret  of  Kobad's 
deep  interest  in  both  toe  and  Feridoon  ?" 

"  Why,  you  know  as  well  as  I,"  the  father  re 
turned.  "  He  has  often  told  you  that  he  loved 
you  for  your  kindness  and  goodness,  and  hence 
he  has  taken  pleasure  in  instructing  you  ;  and  is 
it  not  a  natural  consequence  that  he  should  love 
you,  after  having  for  a  while  enjoyed  your  so 
ciety  ?" 

"  But  what  should  have  induced  him  at  first 
to  come  to  me  V 

"  He  saw  you  first  by  accident.  He  came  one 
night  past  my  stall,  all  footsore  and  weary,  and 
he  begged  of  me  to  give  him  food  and  rest.  I 
took  him  in  and  ministered  to  his  wants,  and  he 
remained  beneath  my  roof  several  days,  having 
become  so  worn  down  by  fatigue  as  to  be  really 
unable  to  pursue  his  way.  During  that  time 
you  ministered  wholly  to  his  wants,  for  your 
mother  was  busy  with  household  duties,  and — 
to.  tell  the  truth,  she  was  not  in  the  best  of  hu 
mors  at  having  such  a  helpless  stranger  on  her 
hands." 


"  I  remember  that !"  said  Zillah. 

"  And  do  you  remember,"  resumed  the  cob 
bler,  with  a  meaning  twinkle  in  his  sharp,  gray 
eye,  "  how  fondly  your  mother  used  to  speak  of 
our  guest  ?  how  sweet  and  mild  were  the  words 
she  selected  for  her  modes  of  expression  when 
making  allusion  to  the  old  man  ?" 

"Mark  ye,  Zak  Turan,"  uttered  Rudabah, 
shaking  her  finger  menacingly  in  her  husband's 
face,  "  you  are  well  now,  and  your  face  becomes 
you  well  for  such  a  piece  of  humanity  as  you 
chance  to  be  ;  but  beware  that  you  don't  get  it 
marked  in  a  way  that  wont  be  so  pleasant." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  laughed  the  cobbler.  "  I  know 
your  prowess  well,  my  sweet  angel,  but  surely 
you  will  not  seek  offence  in  the  words  I  uttered. 
Did  I  not  say  that  your  words  were  sweet  and 
mild  ?" 

"  Ay,  but  what  meant  you  ?" 

"  Did  I  not  speak  the  truth  when  I  said  so  ?" 

"No,  Zak  Turan." 

"  Bless  me,  my  angel,  I  did  not  think,  when 
I  sought  to  make  it  appear  that  you  always  spoke 
sweetly,  that  you  would  give  the  lie  to  my  mean 
ing." 

The  wife  tried  hard  to  be  angry,  but  there 
was  such  a  blaze  of  good  nature  upon  the  round, 
ruddy  face  of  her  lord,  that  she  could  not. 

"  Answer  me  one  more  question,"  said  Zillah, 


54 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


as  soon  as  her  mother  was  quiet.  "  What  firs 
induced  the  astrologer  to  bring  Feridoon  to  me  ?' 
"  I  know  not,  I'm  sure.  He  never  gave  me 
any  reason,  save  that  the  youth  was  worthy  o 
your  love  ;  and  I  think  he  was  right  in  that." 

Zillah's  eyes  sparkled  as  her  father  thus  spoke, 
for  her  own  heart  gave  a  thrilling  assent  to  his 
words,  and  instead  of  asking  more  questions,  she 
communed  with  her  own  thoughts.  There  was 
much  to  perplex  her  in  the  circumstance  of  her 
introduction  to  Feridoon,  and  also  in  the  care 
which  Kobad  manifested  for  her  welfare ;  but 
she  did  not  allow  it  to  annoy  her,  for  she  found 
too  much  joy  in  the  very  source  of  her  diffi 
culty. 

Nearly  an  hour  had  passed  away  since  their 
visitors  had  gone,  and  Zak  Turan  had  arisen  for 
the  purpose  of  retiring,  when  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  sound  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 
He  stopped  and  listened,  and  in  a  moment  more 
he  was  sure  he  heard  some  one  descending  the 
wooden  stairs. 

"  Kobad  has  returned,"  he  said,  as  he  became 
assured  that  his  ears  had  not  deceived  him. 

"But  why?"  uttered  Zillah,  who  felt  some 
fear.  ^ 

"Perhaps  there  is  threatening  of  a  storm. 
The  air  comes  down  through  our  window  cold 
and  damp,  and  I  can  see  no  stars  up  there  as 
usual." 

"  But  by  this  time  he  would  have  been  more, 
much  more  than  half  way  to  the  palace  of  Eus- 
tem." 

"  You  forget  that  half  of  the  time  that  has 
passed  must  have  been  spent  in  returning." 

This  thought,  together  with  the  hope  of  see 
ing  Feridoon,  served  to  dispel  the  maiden's 
fears,  and  she  waited  with  anxiety  for  the  open 
ing  of  the  inner  door.  And  yet,  all  was  not 
joy  in  her  heart;  there  was  a  lurking  dread 
there,  which  manifested  itself  in  a  trembling, 
heaving  breath,  and  in  a  clasping  of  the  hands 
upon  her  bosom  in  a  prayerful  attitude. 

"  Surely,"  uttered  Eudabah,  "  Kobad  would 
not  blunder  about  in  that  fashion !" 

"  Unless  there  has  been  some  accident,"  quick 
ly  suggested  the  cobbler. 

"  0,"  cried  Zillah,  "  if  Feridoon  has  been 
hurt !" 

As  she  gave  this  utterance  breath,  there  came 
a  smart  knock  upon  the  door,  and  Zak  Turan 
stepped  quickly  to  it. 

"  Who  is  there.  ?"  he  asked- 


"  Feridoon,"  answered  some  one  from  with 
out,  in  a  strained  tone. 

The  cobbler  immediately  opened  the  door,  and 
on  the  next  moment  half  a  dozen  soldiers  rushed 
into  the  apartment  of  the  cave.  Zillah  saw  the 
steel-bound  garbs  of  the  new  comers,  and  with 
a  wild  cry  she  started  back,  but  she  had  no  place 
of  refuge. 

i "  Who  are  ye  ?"  inquired  Zak  Turan,  as  soon 
as  he  could  command  his  speech. 

"  We  are  from  the  king,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
officer  who  led  the  soldiers. 

"  And  how  found  ye  entrance  here  ?"  was  the 
poor  cobbler's  next  question,  he  being  moved 
almost  as  much  by  astonishment  as  by  fear. 

"This  faithful  servant  of  the  king  brought  us 
hither,"  replied  the  officer,  pointing  to  one  of 
the  eunuchs  of  the  royal  palace. 

"  And  for  what  have  ye  come  ?" 

"For  yon  beautiful  damsel  whom  we  see 
crouching  away  as  though  she  feared  us." 

Zillah  sunk  down  on  her  knees  and  clasped 
ler  hands,  and  on  the  next  moment  her  mother 
sprang  towards  her  and  made  an  attempt  to 
protect  her,  but  she  was  quickly  disposed  of  by 
jeing  seized  and  pushed  away.  J2ak  Turan 
mew  that  his  interference  would  only  tend  to 
make  matters  worse,  and  he  wisely  refrained 
rora  any  physical  demonstration.  But  he  sank 
down  upon  his  knees  and  implored  the  officer  to 
spare  his  child. 

'  Now  mark  ye,"  said  the  officer,  and  it  was 
an  answer  to  all  that  could  be  possibly  said,  "  the 
ting  has  sent  me  to  bring  this  damsel  to  him, 
md  when  some  one  more  powerful  than  the  king 
ihall  interfere,  I  may  listen." 

"  Then  listen  to  the  voice  of  God !"  cried  Zil- 
ah,  "  O,  carry  me  not  to  the  royal  palace  !" 

"But  you  are  not  God,  nor  does  he  speak 
hrough  you,  for  our  king  is  God's  most  faithful 
icrvant.  Come,  and  let  me  have  no  cause  to 
jive  you  bodily  pain,  for  the  king's  orders  must 
DC  obeyed." 

As  the  officer  thus  spoke,  he  seized  the  maiden 

y  the  arm  and  raised  her  to  her  feet,  and  then 

calling  his   companions  to  his  assistance,  they 

raised  her  from  her  feet  and  bore  her  towards 

he  mouth  of  the  cave. 

'Father!  father !— O,  my  father!"  Zillah 
;ried,  in  agonizing  accents.  "  Save  me  !  save 
me!" 

Zak  Turan  sprang  forward  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  shoulder  of  the  officer,  but  hardly  had 

done  so  when  he  received  a  blow  upon  the 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


55 


head  that  laid  him  prostrate  upon  the  hard  rock, 
and  while  Rudabah  sprang  to  the  assistance  of 
her  husband,  Zillah  was  borne  from  the  place. 
As  soon  as  the  soldiers  reached  the  level  ground 
outside  the  cave  they  formed  a  sort  of  litter 
of  their  spears,  upon  which  they  placed  their 
own  outer  garments  and  then  laid  their  prize 
upon  them.  Four  of  the  stoutest  men  shoul 
dered  the  litter  thus  provided,  and  then  the 
party  set  forward  at  a  brisk  walk.  Zillah  said 
no  more,  for  she  knew  it  v/ould  be  useless,  and 
the  only  sounds  that  issued  from  her  lips  were 
the  deep  groans  of  anguish  that  she  could  not 
keep  back.  She  was  truly  miserable  now. 

The  clouds  which  had  been  gathering  thick 
and  black  in  the  heavens  now  hung  over  the 
earth  like  a  suspended  ocean,  and  ere  long  great 
drops  of  rain  began  to  descend  and  patter  upon 
the  earth.  The  soldiers  stopped  and  set  the  lit 
ter  down,  and  having  taken  some  of  the  gar- 
meats  upon  which  Zillah  was  lying  they  placed 
them  over  her,  and  having  covered  her  up  as 
well  as  they  could,  they  resumed  their  march  at 
a  quickened  pace, 

Ere  long  the  rain  came  down  in  torrents,  and 
the  spirit  of  darkness  brooded  over  the  earth 
more  powerfully  than  before.  Those  who  bore 
the  litter  could  now  hardly  see  the  ground  upon 
which  they  trod,  and  but  for  the  faint  reflection 
of  the  raindrops  they  would  have  been  in  a 
gloom  as  dark  as  chaos  itself.  Yet  they  kept 
on,  for  they  had  now  reached  that  part  of  the  city 
where  their  duty  often  called  them,  and  they 
had  an  instinctive  sense  of 'the  proper  course. 
The  officer  walked  in  advance,  and  ever  and 
anon  he  would  stop  to  listen  in  order  to  hear  if 
his  followers  were  upon  his  track,  and  several 
times  when  he  did  thus,  his  first  assurance  of  the 
proximity  of  the  soldiers  was  given  by  their  run 
ning  against  him. 

And  all  this  while  poor  Zillah  was  drenched 
to  the  skin,  and  the  chilling  grasp  of  the  storm 
had  sank  its  touch  to  her  very  heart.  She  was 
very  cold,  and  her  frame  shook  as  with  a  spasm. 
Once  she  begged  her  abductors  to  find  some 
shelter.  They  held  a  momentary  consultation, 
but  they  did  not  stop. 

But  the  journey  was  to  have  an  end,  and  at 
length  the  royal  palace  was  reached,  and  the  sol 
diers  soon  gave  up  their  charge  to  the  king's 
trusty  eunuchs,  who  conveyed  Zillah  to  a  com 
fortable  apartment,  where  attendants  of  her  own 
sex  were  found  to  wait  upon  her. 

The  king  slept  and  the  eunuchs  chose  aot  to 


awaken  him.  They  resolved  to  let  the  news  keep 
for  him  until  morning,  and  in  the  meantime  to 
have  Zillah  restored  to  a  condition  of  rest  and 
comfort. 

The  women  into  whose  hands  the  poor  maiden 
was  now  given,  saw  that  she  was  chilled  by  her 
recent  exposure,  and  they  quickly  concocted  a 
restoring  cordial,  and  then  placed  her  in  a  warm 
bed.  Her  exhausted  system  sank  under  the  in 
fluence  of  the  cordial  and  the  wooing  bed;  and 
she  soon  slept.  Luckily  for  her,  she  was  so  ut 
terly  exhausted  that  she  could  not  dream,  and 
she  passed  some  hours  of  sweet,  refreshing  sleep. 

When  Zillah  awoke  she  found  that  the  storm 
had  passed  away,  and  that  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly  through  the  lattice  near  her  bed.  It 
was  sometime  before  she  could  fully  realize  what 
had  passed,  and  it  was  not  until  she  saw  several 
strange,  black  faces  about  her  bed  that  she  re 
membered  whither  she  had  been  carried  the  night 
before. 

"  Will  our  noble  lady  dress  ?"  asked  one  of 
the  female  slaves,  deferentially. 

Zillah  started  up  at  the  sound  of  these  words, 
for  they  conveyed  to  her  mind  in  an  instant  the 
whole  startling  truth.  None  but  a  favorite  of 
the  king's  would  be  addressed  thus  ! 

"  Who  are  ye  ?"  the  poor  girl  gasped,  hardly 
knowing  what  she  said. 

"  We  are  sent  to  serve  thee.  And,"  continued 
one  who  had  a  pleasant  cast  of  features,  albeit 
they  were  black  and  coarse,  "we  have  heard 
something  of  thy  story,  and  would  advise  thee 
for  thy  good.  Dress  as  we  shall  direct,  and  re 
ceive  the  king." 

Zillah  lay  back  upon  her  pillow,  and  for  some 
moments  she  pondered  upon  her  situation.  She 
was  not  without  a  fair  share  of  personal  courage 
save  when  brute  force  was  brought  against  her, 
for  from  this  she  shrank  in  terror.  She  saw  that 
she  had  better  not  commence  by  utter  obstinacy, 
and  soon  she  arose  from  her  bed  and  allowed 
herself  to  be  dressed.  She  was  at  first  dazzled 
by  the  gorgeous  apparel  they  put  upon  her.  The 
rich  stuffs  of  gold  cloth,  the  sparkling  jewels, 
the  flowing  robe  of  spotless  silk,  the  redolent 
perfumes  and  the  softly  gleaming  pearls  that 
went  last  upon  her  pure  white  brow,  all  seemed 
for  a  while  to  enchain  her  senses  in  bewilder 
ment.  But  there  was  no  pride,  no  joy,  in  the 
sensation,  for  she  felt  herself  to  be  but  as  the 
gaudily  bedecked  lamb  that  is  prepared  for  the 
sacrifice. 

When  all  this  vras  done— when  the  maidea 


56 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


was  thus  prepared — she  was  led  from  the  sleep 
ing  apartment  out  through  a  long  corridor,  and 
finally  into  a  room  which  surpassed  in  magnifi 
cence  anything  of  which  she  had  ever  conceived. 
It  was  a  spacious  place,  with  a  floor  of  mosaic 
marble,  laid  in  tiny  bits  of  various  colors,  so  as 
to  represent  pictures  of  various  kinds,  while  in 
the  centre  played  a  fountain  of  sparkling  water. 
The  roof  was  supported  by  marble  pillars,  back 
of  which  hung  a  tapestry  of  gold  cloth  on  three 
sides,  while  on  the  fourth  the  scene  opened  upon 
a  garden  of  most  beautiful  shrubs  and  flowers. 
The  seats  in  the  apartment,  which  were  of  rich 
fabric  sumptuously  draped  and  stuffed  with 
down,  were  supported  upon  small  lions  of  gold, 
and  all  the  other  furniture  and  trappings  were 
equally  rich  and  costly. 

Here  Zillah  was  left  alone.  She  did  not  no 
tice  the  slight  pain  that  had  crept  into  her  head, 
for  the  excitement  of  the  occasion  overcame  all 
that.  She  had  been  alone  only  a  few  moments 
when  a  section  of  the  tapestry  was  drawn  aside, 
and  in  a  moment  more  the  king  appeared  before 
her. 

Sohrab  stopped  when  he  had  gained  a  position 
in  front  of  the  maiden,  and  gazed  upon  her  with 
a  rapture  almost  approaching  delirium.  Never 
before  had  she  looked  more  beautiful.  There 
was  a  flush  upon  her  cheeks  outvieing  the  very 
roses  that  crept  up  about  the  columns  of  the 
garden,  and  in  her  eyes  shone  a  light  that  might 
hold  wager  with  the  stars. 

"  Zillah,"  spoke  the  king,  at  length,  "  heaven 
seems  all  crowded  into  this  one  moment  of  my 
life.  O,  most  lovely  of  thy  sex,  thou  knowest 
not  what  pangs  I  have  suffered  with  the  fear 
that  I  might  lose  thee,  nor  can  tongue  tell  the 
joy  that  at  this  moment  pervades  my  senses  when 
I  find  that  thou  art  truly  mine." 

"Thine!"  uttered  the  maiden,  in  a  shrill,  trem 
bling  whisper. 

"  Ay — for  thou  art  surely:mine  now,  and  thou 
shalt  find  how  truly  a  king  can  love." 

"  Then  you  do  love  me  1" 

"  Love  thee  ?  0,  with  my  very  life.  To  thy 
slightest  wish  shall  half  my  kingdom  be  sub 
ject." 

"Then,"  murmured  Zillah,  sinking  quickly 
down  upon  her  knees,  "  give  to  me  my  liberty 
and  let  me  go  my  way.  O,  what  can  be  more 
easy  for  you  to  do  than  this  ?" 

The  king's  countenance  changed. 

"  You  should  not  ask  that,"  he  said. 

"  But  it  is  the  prayer  of  my  heart." 


"  And  yet  I  cannot  grant  it,  for  it  would  break 
my  own  heart  to  do  so.  No,  no — you  will  not 
persist  in  such  a  demand." 

Zillah  arose  to  her  feet  "and  stood  before  the 
king.  She  looked  upon  him,  and  she  saw  a  man 
who  had  reached  the  downhill  of  life,  whose  head 
already  bore  the  frost  of  years  in  silver  touches 
laid  on  thick  and  white,  and  whose  face  showed 
the  marks  of  the  libertine  and  the  debauchee. 
She  at  first  would  have  shrunk  from  the  mon 
arch  with  fear  and  loathing,  but  a  sense  of  the 
wrong  that  had  been  heaped  upon  her  gave  her 
courage,  and  the  regal  station  of  her  oppressor 
gave  him  an  importance  that  might  not  be  passed 
over  with  mere  disdain.  She  remembered  how 
he  had  stolen  in  upon  the  sanctity  of  her  home, 
and  had  even  abused  the  holy  boon  of  charity 
to  the  fatal  injury  of  those  who  bestowed  it. 
Then  she  remembered  how  he  had  sent  to  seize 
her — how  he  had  even  sent  messengers  of  death 
upon  the  man  who  would  have  protected  her. 
These  thoughts  passed  quickly,  yet  vividly, 
through  her  mind ;  and'then  she  thought  of  what 
must  be  the  will  of  such  a  man.  Next  she  dwelt 
upon  his  power,  and  the  picture  was  not  promis 
ing  of  joy  to  her. 

"  Sire !"  she  said,  returning  the  king's  look 
with  one  of  the  deepest  agony,  "  you  will  not 
keep  me  here  against  my  will — you  will  not 
force  me  to  remain  with  you,  when  you  are  as 
sured  that  each  moment  of  my  sojourn  beneath 
this  roof  is  a  dagger  of  death  to  my  soul.  O, 
you  are  a  powerful  king,  and  I  but  one  of  the 
meanest  of  your  subjects." 

"  Hold  !  Zillah  !  You  are  not  so.  You  are 
not  my  subject  — you  are  mistress  of  my  heart, 
keeper  of  my  affections,  and  ruler  of  my  joy." 

"  Say  not  so,  sire  !" 

"  But  it  is  the  truth.  Your  fate  is  wrapped 
up  in  the  same  sphere  with  mine  own.  You  are 
mine — mine  to  love  and  to  adore." 

Zillah  sank  back  upon  her  seat  once  more  and 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  while  she  sat 
thus  the  king  seated  himself  beside  her  and 
passed  his  arm  around  her  neck.  She  felt  the 
touch — she  felt  the  hot  breath  strike  her  face — 
and,  in  a  moment  more  she  felt  his  lips  sealed 
upon  her  cheek.  This  broke  the  spell.  This 
startled  the  maiden  back  to  life,  and  she  felt  her 
whole  soul  take  fire  with  indignation  and  con 
tempt.  With  a  quick,  energetic  movement  she 
sprang  from  the  royal  embrace,  and  then  with 
her  hands  clasped  before  her  she  cried  : 

"  Touch  me  not  again !     Your  embrace  is 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


57 


worse  than  death  a  thousand  times.  Kill  me  if 
you  will,  but  touch  me  not  I" 

"Beware,  Zillah !"  uttered  Sohrab,  turning 
pale  and  trembling.  "Beware  how  you  excite 
me  to  wrath !" 

"  Did  I  not  tell  thee,  king,  that  I  would  rather 
die  than  suffer  your  embrace  ?  O,  your  wrath 
would  be  to  me  a  blessing  when  compared  to 
your  love." 

"Ay — but  ye  shall  have  both.  I'll  love  thee 
— I'll  make  thee  my  wife — and  then  I'll  hate 
thee  as  I  would  a  toad !" 

Zillah  shrank  away  from  the  king,  for  his 
words  fell  like  hot  coals  upon  her  heart,  and  his 
face  showed  that  he  meant  all  he  said.  She 
knew  his  power ;  she  knew  that  no  Feridoon 
could  save  her  now,  and  under  the  emotions  thus 
brought  up  she  might  have  sank  senseless  down 
had  not  one  of  the  black  eunuchs  at  that  mo 
ment  made  his  appearance. 

"  How  now,  slave  ?"  cried  Sohrab. 

"  The  satraps  and  the  judges  are  arrived,  and 
the  people  clamor  for  audience,  sire." 

"  Go  tell  them  I  will  be  with  them  anon." 

The  slave  disappeared,  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
gone,  the  monarch  turned  to  Zillah.  His  face 
had  assumed  an  iron  firmness,  and  his  eyes 
gleamed  with  a  strange  fire,  seeming  half  exulta 
tion,  with  some  wrath  and  a  touch  of  hatred. 
He  raised  his  finger  towards  the  maiden,  until  it 
pointed  directly  into  her  face,  and  then  he  said, 
in  a  low,  hissing  tone,  but  with  measured  ac 
cents  : 

"  Zillah,  the  duties  of  my  office  call  me  now 
to  the  throne,  but  I  shall  return  to  you.  This 
night,  when  you  retire,  you  will  be  my  wife. 
Do  you  hear  me  !" 

Zillah  hesitated  for  one  moment,  and  then  she 
sprang  forward  and  sank  down  at  the  mon 
arch's  feet,  with  her  clasped  hands  raised  towards 
him. 

"  Sire  !"  she  cried,  "  O,  for  the  love  of  heav 
en,  release  me  from  this  place.  I  cannot  love 
you  as  a  husband,  for  my  heart  is  another's ; 
but  let  me  go — let  «ie  depart  in  purity  and 
peace — and  as  my  king  I  will  love  you  always 
and  pray  for  you  with  every  prayer  of  my 
heart." 

"  So,  so,  pretty  one — you  look  most  beautiful 
now  at  my  feet." 

"  Answer  me,  sire !  0,  answer  me,  and 
when  you  speak — remember  that  God  looks 
down  upon  us." 


"  I  ohoose  not  to  trouble  myself  with  anything 
above  the  earth  at  this  present  time,"  was  the 
king's  cold  reply.  "  But  listen — I  saw  you  and 
loved  you,  for  you  were  the  most  beautiful  be 
ing  upon  whom  my  eyes  had  ever  rested.  I  re 
solved  that  you  should  be  mine,  and  I  sent  for 
you,  little  dreaming  that  any  one  would  dare 
resist  the  orders  of  the  king.  You  know  that 
I  have  had  some  trouble  in  obtaining  you,  but 
you  are  here  at  length,  and  my  wish  is  grati 
fied.  Now  you  may  be  my  wife,  and  be  among 
the  happiest  of  the  happy,  with  every  wish  cared 
for  and  every  whim,  even,  regarded  ;  or  you 
may  be  my  wife  and  be  as  miserable  as  you 
choose— for  my  Avife  you  shall  be,  even  though 
death  stood  by  your  side,  and  I  had  to  em 
brace  you  both  together  !  Now  you  have  had 
an  answer  to  all  your  questions  and  all  your 
prayers." 

Zillah  arose  and  walked  slowly  to  the  seat 
where  she  had  before  rested,  and  with  a  deep 
groan  she  sank  down  upon  it.  The  king  gazed 
at  her  a  moment  in  silence,  and  then  he  said  : 

"  Remember — I  shall  be  with  you  anon,  and 
you  must  love  me.  The  miser  shall,  unasked, 
give  all  his  store  in  noble  charity  ere  I  give  up 
thee !  The  doting  mother,  in  her  own  right 
mind,  shall  give  her  darling  infant  to  feed  the 
dogs,  ere  I  give  one  claim  of  mine  upon  thee 
away  !  Thou  art  mine — mine  to  share  my  bed, 
and  my  love  if  you  will." 

When  Zillah  next  looked  up  she  was  alone. 
The  words  she  had  heard  rang  wildly  in  her 
ears,  and  her  heart  throbbed  painfully  in  her 
bosom.  She  gazed  upon  the  gaudy  tapestry 
which  was  still  in  motion  from  the  king's  touch, 
and  her  brain  commenced  to  reel.  She  remem 
bered  how  the  persecutor  had  looked  — how  his 
eyes  had  gleamed,  his  teeth  grated  and  his  face 
paled,  and  a  faintncss  gathered  about  her  heart. 
She  walked  to  the  open  balcony  that  looked 
out  upon  the  garden,  but  she  noticed  not  the 
fragrance  of  the  zephyrs  that  came  up  from  the 
thousand  bursting  roses  and  aromatic  shrubs. 
She  went  to  the  fountain  and  bathed  her  brow 
in  the  cool  water,  for  she  felt  a  strange  oppres 
sion  there — a  close,  confined  sensation,  accom 
panied  by  a  burning  heat.  She  felt  her  steps 
tottering — she  knew  that  her  strength  was  leav 
ing  her,  and  she  had  just  time  to  reach  her  seat 
once  more,  when  the  last  spark  of  conscious 
ness  went  out,  and  she  sank  down  faint  and 
insensible. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


A   MOST   STARTLING    INTERVIEW. 


WHEN  Zuk  Turan  and  his  wife  were  left  alone 
with  their  serving  man,  they  were  in  a  state  of 
bewilderment  for  a  while,  that  almost  shut  out 
the  realization  of  pain.  Rudabah  first  hastened 
to  the  assistance  of  her  husband,  but  she  found 
that  he  had  not  been  hurt,  only  slightly  stunned 
by  the  blow  he  had  received.  As  soon  as  they 
were  really  capable  of  calm  reflection,  Zak  Tu 
ran  resolved  to  hasten  away  at  once  and  hunt  up 
Kobad.  Accordingly  he  left  his  wife  and  slave 
in  charge  of  the  cave,  and  made  his  way  out, 
bidding  them,  ere  he  left,  to  keep  the  inner  door 
fastened  and  not  to  open  it  save  to  tho'se  whom 
they  knew  to  be  friends. 

Shortly  after  the  cobbler  left  the  cave  the  rain 
began  to  fall,  but  he  noticed  it  not.  Pie  only 
hastened  on  as  before,  for  he  had  started  at  a 
speed  as  swift  as  he  could  maintain.  His  first 
stopping  place  was  the  palace  of  the  satrap  Rus- 
tem,  for  he  naturally  concluded  that  the  sage 
would  have  stopped  with  Feridoon.  At  the  gate 
he  found  a  slave  sleeping  beneath  the  shelter  of 
an  arch,  and  of  him  he  inquired  if  the  astrol 
oger  was  within.  The  slave  said  no. 

"  And  has  Feridoon  returned  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  are  you  sure  that  an  old  man  did  not 
come  with  him  ?" 

"Don't  know,"  returned  the  slave,  rubbing 
his  eyes  and  yawning. 


"  Then  will  you  find  out  ?" 

"  Not  now.  If  you  want  to  inform  yourself 
upon  such  matters  you  had  better  present  your 
self  at  some  seasonable  hour.  Now  go  away 
before  we  lock  you  up  for  disturbing  the  peace 
at  this  unseemly  time." 

The  cobbler  was  afraid  of  the  guard  of  the 
powerful  satrap,  and  he  dared  not  offend  him  ; 
yet  he  resolved  to  make  one  more  trial,  for  he 
had  an  impression  that  Kobad  was  there. 

"  Hark  ye  !"  he  said.  "  If  Feridoon  learns  not 
the  intelligence  .1  have  to  communicate,  his  mis 
ery  for  life  may  be  scaled.  But  I  would  rather 
the  old  astrologer  should  know  it  first,  for  he 
may  have  some  means  of  helping  the  matter 
without  alarming  the  youth." 

"  You  are  deceiving  me  1" 

"  I  am  not.  The  young  man's  happiness  de 
pends  upon  the  success  of  my  mission.  One 
whom  he  loves  is  in  danger." 

"  Do  you  mean  the  damsel  ?" 

"  Ay  ;  I  mean  Zillah  ;  my  own  child." 

"  Eh  1  You,  you  the  father  of  our  young 
master's  love  ?" 

"  Yes.     I  am  Zak  Turan." 

"  And  why  didn't  you  say  so  ?  By  my  life 
of  lives,  had  I  known  that,  I'd  let  you  pass  even 
though  the  satrap  himself  bade  rue  not.  Hold  a 
moment,  and  I'll  call  a  slave  to  conduct  you." 

As  the  fellow  thus  spoke  he  stepped  back  into 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER 


59 


the  court,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  returned  with 
another  slave. 

"Hist!  say  nothing  that  I  slumbered;  for 
the  rain  kept  me  in,  and  my  lids  were  heavy. 
They  drooped  against  my  express  wishes." 

"  Fear  not,"  returned  the  cobbler.  "  I  am  not 
prone  that  way." 

Zak  Turan  now  followed  his  new  guide,  and 
ere  long  he  reached  Feridoon's  apartments. 
Here  they  found  a  slave  awake,  and  from  him 
they  learned  that  Kobad  was  there.  The  cob 
bler  at  once  went  to  his  bedside  and  awoke  him, 
and  then  told  him  all  that  had  happened.  At 
first  the  old  man  would  hardly  believe  it.  He 
rubbed  his  eyes  and  seemed  to  doubt  the  real 
ity  of  his  being  awake,  but  he  soon  satisfied  him 
self  upon  this  point,  and  then  he  made  Zak  Tu 
ran  tell  the  story  over  again.  When  he  had 
heard  the  startling  tale  repeated,  and  had  real 
ized  it  all,  he  leaped  from  his  bed  and  caught 
the  cobbler  by  the  hand. 

"  You  are  Zak  Turan,"  he  muttered,  half  to 
himself,  "  and  you  surely  know  what  has  hap 
pened." 

Then  he  sat  down  upon  a  stool,  and  after  re 
flecting  for  some  moments,  he  added  : 

"  I  see  how  it  must  have  been :  we  were  fol 
lowed.  Those  eunuchs  are  witty  men,  and  they 
overcame  our  precautions.  But  hark  ye ;  say 
nothing  yet  of  this  to  Feridoon.  Did  he  know 
it  he  would  rush  at  once  to  the  royal  palace,  and 
that  must  not  be,  for  surely  some  arrow  or  jav 
elin,  or  some  vengeful  spear-head  would  find 
his  life.  ^Sit  thee  down,  Zak  Turan,  for  I  must 
ponder  upon  this.  Of  course  Zillah  will  be  in 
no  immediate  danger  to  night,  save  from  the 
storm,  for  when  she  reaches  the  palace  she  will 
be  wet  and  cold,  and  must  have  rest.  Fear  not. 
I  will  ponder  well,  and  you  may  be  assured  that 
my  thoughts  shall  be  to  some  purpose." 

For  some  time  the  ,old  astrologer  remained 
with  his  head  bowed  upon  his  hands,  but  at 
length  he  started  up  and  commenced  to  pace 
the  room.  Once  he  stopped  and  clasped  his 
hands  together  vehemently  and  then  walked  on 
again. 

"  I  must  do  it,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "  I 
must  do  it,  or  all  may  be  lost.  I  must  see  him, 
for  no  messenger  can  be  sent.  O,  Sohrab, 
what  a  villain  thou  art !" 

He  stopped  walking  as  he  ceased  speaking, 
and  having  gazed  full  into  Zak  Turan's  face  for 
some  moments,  he  continued  : 

"  Rest  here,  my  son,  and  be  assured  that  our 


sweet  child  can  be  saved.  Yet  I  would  have 
given  much  ere  I  would  have  had  such  a  thing 
happen.  But  I  have  a  power  greater  than  the 
king.  Let  not  your  heart  grieve,  for  Zillah  shall 
be  saved." 

***** 

The  king  hurried  through  with  his  business 
in  the  audience  chamber,  and  that  day  there 
were  some  judgments  rendered  that  had  but  lit 
tle  of  deliberation  in  their  rendering.  Before 
noon  he  had  cleared  the  last  case  from  the  dock 
et,  and  all  else  that  might  come  in  before  the 
proper  time  of  closing  the  divan,  he  left  for 
Kanah  to  dispose  of,  for  he  knew  that  Kanah 
not  only  possessed  the  ability  to  render  judg 
ment,  but  that  most  of  the  people  had  much 
confidence  in  him.  As  soon  as  this  arrangement 
was  made  the  king  left  the  great  hall  and  took 
his  own  private  way  to  his  family  apartments. 
He  reached  the  sumptuous  apartment  where  he 
had  left  the  maiden,  but  she  awas  not  there. 
He  went  and  looked  out  into  the  garden,  but 
he  could  not  see  her  there.  He  was  just  going 
to  another  apartment  when  one  of  his  female 
slaves  entered  his  presence. 

"  Where  is  Zillah  ?"  he  asked,  as  the  slave 
stopped  and  bowed  low  down. 

"  She  has  gone  to  her  bed,"  was  the  slave's 
response. 

"  Gone  to  her  bed?"  iterated  the  king.  "  And 
did  she  know  that  I  should  seek  her  there  ?" 

"  She  is  sorely  afflicted,  sire." 

"Ay;  so  I  feared  she  would  be.  But  my 
presence  will  soon  restore  her." 

"  Not  so,  sire  ;  for  she  is  bereft  of  reason  at 
times,  and  her  blood  lies  hot  in  her  veins.  After 
you  had  gone  to  audience  we  found  her  here 
upon  the  floor,  and  when  we  had  conveyed  her 
to  her  couch,  we  at  once  sent  for  your  physician, 
and  he  says  that  a  raging  fever  is  working  in  her 
svstem." 

"  I  will  see  her,"  said  the  king,  with  some 
thing  like  regret  upon  his  features  :  and  as  he 
spoke  he  followed  the  slave  out  into  the  corri 
dor  beyond,  and  thence  to  a  spacious  apart 
ment,  within  which  was  a  bed  most  richly  fur 
nished. 

Upon  this  bed  reposed  the  form  of  Zillah. 
She  seemed  to  sleep  now,  and  her  breath  was 
quick  and  heavy.  Upon  her  cheek  was  a  deep 
hectic  flush,  and  her  flesh  was  hot  and  parched. 
The  king  spoke  to  her,  but  she  did  not  answer. 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  her  brow,  but  she  moved 
not  in  recognition  of  his  presence. 


60 


THE  KING  AND  GOBBLER. 


"  Did  she  rave,  said  you  ?"  he  asked,  turning 
to  the  slave  whom  he  had  met  in  the  other 
apartment. 

"  Ay,  sire,  most  strangely,  though  not  with 
such  power  as  some.  She  seemed  only  as 
though  her  mind  wandered,  and  her  speech  was 
of  such  a  kind  as  bore  no  sense  nor  meaning  to 
us." 

"  Now,  by  my  life,"  cried  the  monarch?  bring 
ing  his  hands  together,  "  she  talked  the  same 
with  me,  and  I  did  not  think  of  her  being  lost  in 
mind.  And  yet,  had  I  reflected,  I  might  have 
seen  that  her  mind  was  not  her  own  then.  But 
let  her  be  cared  for,  and  the  physician  shall  an 
swer  for  her  life  with  his  own.  By  my  life,  if 
her  breath  goes  out  in  death,  then  all  who  have 
to  do  with  the  medications  of  her  disease  shall 
die  with  her !" 

Sohrab  stooped  over  and  kissed  the  maiden's 
pure  white  brow,  and  then  he  turned  away  from 
the  apartment.  He  stopped  at  the  door,  and 
having  once  more  informed  his  slaves  that  then- 
own  lives  should  be  answerable  for  the  sure  re 
covery  of  the  invalid,  he  went  away.  When  he 
reached  the  great  chamber  of  the  garden,  where 
he  had  first  met  Zillah,  he  stopped  and  gazed 
out  upon  the  flowers  that  were  sending  their 
aromatic  breath  up  sosweetly  into  the  palace. 
He  stood  leaning  against  one  of  the  marble 
pillars,  and  while  there  he  cursed  his  fate  that 
the  beautiful  object  of  his  love  should  be  thus 
held  from  him  even  after  he  had  her  within  his 
power.  He  was  just  upon  the  point  of  turning 
away  when  a  movement  of  the  arras  caught  his 
eye,  and  upon  looking  that  way  he  observed  a 
human  figure  step  from  behind  the  heavy  hang 
ings  into  the  room. 

This  new  comer  was  an  old  man,  bent  by 
age,  with  a  head  as  white  as  snow  from  the  frost 
of  years,  and  whose  uncut  beard  flowed  down 
to  his  breast  like  a  sheen  of  silver.  The  reader 
will  at  once  recognize  Kobad,  the  astrologer,  but 
the  king  knew  him  not  by  sight,  though,  as  we 
already  know,  he  had  often  heard  of  him,  and 
that,  too,  lately,  in  connection  with  events  of 
not  the  most  pleasing  sound  to  royal  ears. 

"Now  whom  have  we  here?"  uttered  the 
king,  part  in  anger  and  part  in  surprise — sur 
prised  that  the  intruder  should  have  made  his 
way  to  these  private  apartments  unannounced, 
and  angry  that  he  should  have  been  allowed  so 
to  do. 

"  One  who  has  come  to  see  the  king,"  an 
swered  the  old  man,  boldly. 


"  Then  you  have  wandered  from  your  path. 
The  king  should  have  been  seen  an  hour  ago,  in 
the  royal  audience  chamber." 

"But  that  which  I  would  speak  the  king 
alone  should  hear ;  and  hence  have  I  sought 
him  here." 

"  And  how  gained  you  admittance  7" 

"  The  same  as  does  your  majesty,  I  suppose. 
As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  I  stumbled  di 
rectly  upon  the  way  that  led  hither." 

"  But  wherefore  come  ye  1" 

"  Concerning  a  maiden  named  Zillah,  the 
child  of  a  poor  cobbler,  whom  some  graceless 
villains  did  seize  last  night  and  bear  away; 
and  to  your  majesty  come  I  now  for  justice." 

"  And  do  ye  know  who  seized  the  maiden  ?" 
asked  the  king,  biting  his  lips. 

"  I  only  know  that  they  were  soldiers,  and,  if 
I  have  been  informed  correctly,  they  wore  the 
uniform  of  one  of  the  royal  squadrons.  Does 
the  king  know  anything  of  this  ?" 

There  was  something  so  patriarchal  in  the 
look,  the  tone  and  the  bearing  of  the  aged  man, 
that  Sohrab  was  constrained  to  listen,  and  when 
he  would  have  called  for  his  attendants  he  felt 
a  secret,  strange  forewarning  that  he  had  better 
not. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  now  speak  with  the 
king  ?" 

"  I  know  it  well." 

"  Then  methinks  you  speak  freely." 

"  So  that  I  may  be  the  better  understood. 
I  would  know  if  you  can  tell  me  of  this  maiden  ?" 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  thee  that  she  is  now 
in  my  palace  ?" 

"  Then  I  should  believe  thee." 

"  She  is." 

"  I  knew  it." 

"  Ha  !     You  tamper  with  me  then !" 

"I  would  hear  the  truth  from  thy  own  lips. 
But  what  intent  have  you  in  this  movement  ? 
What  will  you  do  with  the  girll" 

"  She  is  for  my  wife." 

"But  she  already  loves  another,  and  is  belov 
ed  in  return.  You  will  not  force  her  to  become 
the  partner  of  your  chamber  ?" 

"  Look  ye !"  cried  the  king,  and  his  face 
flushed  with  anger.  "  You  are  an  old  man  and 
I  have  heard  thee  speak,  but  I'll  listen  no  more. 
Depart  now  in  peace,  or  run  the  risk  of  such 
punishment  as  you  may  deserve.  Out,  I  say  !" 

"  Hold  a  moment,  king.  I  have  not  come 
here  merely  to  banter  you,  or  to  make  a  bargain 
of  words.  I  have  come  to  warn  you ;  and  let 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


61 


me  assure  you  that  you  had  better  wind  your 
body  round  with  sackcloth,  and  bury  thy  head  in 
dust  and  ashes,  than  persist  in  this  design  upon 
the  maiden  of  whom  we  speak.  If  she  is  now 
here — " 

"  She  is  here,  and  here  she  shall  remain  \" 
interrupted  the  king. 

"  I  know  she's  here,"  quickly  answered  Ko- 
bad,  "and  that  she  must  remain  here  for  a 
time,  for  the  brutal  treatment  she  last  night  re 
ceived"  has  made  her  sick.  But,  king  of  Persia, 
listen  to  me.  Better  hadst  thou  kneel  down 
now  and  give  thy  life  quietly  up,  than  to  do 
the  thing  thou  hast  planned,  for  the  moment 
that  sees  the  pure  and  lovely  Zillah  seduced  to 
thy  foul  will,  shall  see  this  kingdom  shake  to  its 
yery  centre  !  Dost  hear  me  1" 

At  first  the  king  could  not  answer,  for  he  was 
strangely  moved.  It  was  not  all  anger,  nor  was 
it  all  fear.  It  was  a  strange  mingling  of  emo 
tions  that  stirred  up  his  feelings,  and  wonder 
held  a  prominent  place  among  them.  But  the 
idea  of  kingly  dignity  and  power  soon  came  to 
help  him,  and  clapping  his  hands  quickly  to 
gether,  he  called  for  his  attendants.  In  a  few 
moments  six  eunuchs  entered.  They  came  in 
by  a  point  close  at  Kobad' s  side,  and  as  they 
bowed  in  the  royal  presence  the  old  astrologer 
turned  full  upon  them,  and  with  a  lofty  wave  of 
the  hand,  he  said  : 

"You  are  not  wanted  now.  Retire,  and 
hold  yourselves  in  readiness." 

The  eunuchs  immediately  turned  from  the 
apartment,  and  before  the  astounded  king  could 
call  them  back  they  were  gone. 

"  Now,  Sohrab,  listen  to  me,"  said  the  strange 
old  man.  "  I  have  at  the  present  moment  come 
to  serve  thee,  though  I  will  not  so  far  speak  rank 
falsehood  as  to  say  that  for  thine  own  weal  I 
care  one  jot.  'Tis  for  Zillah  that  I  care,  and 
you  shall  not  harm  her,  nor  shall  you  take  her 
as  your  wife.  She  is  sick  now,  and  cannot  be 
with  safety  moved,  but  you  shall  not  harm  her." 

"  Now,  by  the  God  of  my  creation  !"  cried 
the  king,  starting  back,  and  drawing  his  sword, 
"you  shall  die  for  this.  Never  before  was  king 
so  insulted  by  a  hireling  slave  !" 

"  'Tis  I  that  have  been  insulted  by  hireling 
slaves !"  calmly  returned  the  old  man,  at  the 
same  time  opening  his  robe  and  drawing  forth 
a  heavy  blade.  "  Had  I  known  the  damsel  was 
so  sick,  I  might  not  have  come  to-day,  but  it  is 
well  that  I  am  here.  And  now  I  ask  thee  once 


in  earnest — wilt  thou  give  the  fair  Zillah  up 
when  she  has  recovered  V 

"No !"  whispered  the  king,  hoarsely  and  spas 
modically.  His  face  was  of  a  livid  hue,  and  his 
hands  were  clutched  till  the  very  blood  seemed 
to  harden  in  them.  "  By  the  faith  of  my  fathers, 
I'll  have  thee  killed  by  inches,  and  the  four 
quarters  of  my  city  shall  each  bear  upon  its 
highest  tower  a  quarter.- of  thy  rebel  body  !" 

Kobad  moved  nearer  to  the  king  and  gazed 
steadily  and  calmly  in  his  face,  and  in  a  low, 
meaning  tone,  while  each  word  seemed  laden 
with  more  than  human  import,  he  said  : 

"  Sohrab,  the  people  of  your  own  kingdom 
already  cry  out  against  you,  and  your  sins  are 
not  only  known,  but  they  are  felt  and  suffered. 
All  over  Persepolis  have  flown  the  tidings  of 
your  conduct  towards  this  poor  girl.  True,  you 
are  a  king,  and  have  the  right  to  rule,  but  you 
should  know  how  tyrants  are  looked  upon,  and 
how  the  people  sometimes  use  them.  You  are 
a  doomed  man  if  you  do  not  turn  from  your 
present  course,  and  just  so  sure  as  you  lay  a  fin 
ger  of  harm  upon  Zillah,  or  force  her  to  one 
concession  beyond  her  full  and  glad  consent,  as 
surely  shall  your  death  follow  it.  I  have  read 
the  stars,  and  even  now,  at  noonday,  they  look 
down  angrily  upon  thee." 

"  Ha !"  uttered  the  monarch,  starting  from 
his  entrancement,  and  clenching  his  hands,  as 
he  heard  the  last  words,  "  you  are  Kobad,  the 
astrologer  of  Arabia  /" 

"Ay— king." 

"  And  you  are  the  arch  traitor  who  has  already 
been  stirring  up  my  people.  Well  may  ye  warn 
me  of  their  vengeance  when  you  yourself  set 
them  on." 

"  Didst  say  /  was  the  arch  traitor  ?"  asked 
Kobad,  moving  nearer  to  the  monarch,  and  gaz 
ing  more  fixedly  in  his  face. 

The  king  was  upon  the  point  of  clapping  his 
hands  again,  when  lie  caught  more  clearly  the 
expression  of  the  astrologer's  dark  hazel  eye. 
There  was  a  strange  gleam  in  that  eye,  and  well 
might  any  man  be  moved  by  it,  but  upon  Soh 
rab  its  influence  was  marvellous.  He  first  bent 
eagerly  forward  and  then  he  started  back.  Soon 
there  came  a  bitter,  lowering  smile  curling  about 
his  eyes,  and  the  king  clasped  his  hands  above  his 
brow  as  though  a  sudden  pain  had  seized  him 
there. 

"  Sohrab,  look  upon  me  more  carefully.  Gaze 
more  keenly  upon  me,  and  see  what  you  find  in 
my  face.  Is  not  there  something  in  the  stars  ?" 


62 


THE  KING  AND   COBBLER. 


"  — sh  !"  whispered  the  king,  turning  pale  as 
death,  and  at  the  same  time  putting  forth  one 
hand  and  feeling  the  flesh  of  Kobad's  arm. 

"  You  dare  not  come  here  if  you  are .  But 

it  cannot  be.  Some  demoniac  skill  of  thine 
works  upon  me  thus." 

"  Mayhap  it  is,  Sohrab.  But  listen  now.  You 
know  that  this  maiden  whom  you  have  forced 
hither  to  your  palace  is  beloved  by  another,  do 
you  not  V 

But  the  king  did  not  answer.  He  only  gazed 
fixedly  into  the  old  man's  face.  And  Kobad 
continued  : 

"  You  did  know  that  she  was  beloved  by  Feri- 
doon.  And  now  you  would  rob  the  youth  of  his 
more  than  life.  King,  you  have  seen  the  youth 
of  the  Lion  Heart — do  ye  dream  who  he  is  ?" 

"Ay! — 1  know  I"  cried  Sohrab. 

"  Ah,  then  you  have  read  the  story  in  his 
face.  You  see  in  him  the  keen  black  eye  and 
the  noble,  lofty  brow  of  his  father.  Now  do 
you  know  what  became  of  that  father  ?" 

"The  robbers  of  the  desert  killed  him!" 
gasped  the  king. 

''They  did  not !"  whispered  Kobad. 

"  They  did !"  whispered  the  monarch,  in  reply. 

"  Sohrab/'  spoke  the  astrologer,  slowly  and 
calmly,  "  when  Kei  Khosrou,  our  beloved  king, 
died  in  this  palace,  you  resolved  to  be  king  in  his 
place,  and  while  that  royal  corse  lay  exposed 
here  to  the  gaze  of  the  people,  you  heard  that  the 
noble  Gushtasp  was  returning  to  pay  his  last 
tribute  of  love  to  the  remains  of  his  beloved 
monarch.  You  feared  Gushtasp,  for  you  knew 
that  the  people  loved  him  more  than  they  did 
yourself.  So  you  sent  out  a  party  of  your  slaves 
to  murder  him  ere  he  should  reach  the  city. 
Those  slaves  did  their  duty  too  faithfully.  They 
murdered  the  noble  general,  and  when  they  re 
turned,  you  poisoned  them  every  one  so  that  your 
secret  might  be  safe.  You  -stood  over  the  cold 
corse  of  Gushtasp — you  gazed  into  his  noble, 
generous  features,  noble  yet  in  death — and  you 
knew  that  the  cruel  gash  that  had  let  his  life- 
blood  out,  was  of  your  own  making  !  And  yet 
you  did  not  repent  of  your  crime,  for  I  saw  you 
then — I  saw  you  as  you  bent  over  the  body  of 
my  best  friend — " 

"  You  saw  me !"  shrieked  the  king.  "  Your  best 
friend !" 

"Ay,  Sohrab,  the  noble  Gushtasp  was  my 
friend,  and  I  wept  when  I  saw  him  dead — and 
even  then  I  knew  that  it  was  you  who  had  killed 


him.  Suppose  the  Lion  Heart  knew  't  was  you 
who  killed  his  father  !" 

"  Out,  monster  !  devil !  sprite  !  afrite !  infer 
nal  ghoul !  Out,  I  say !"  shrieked  the  king,  glar 
ing  wildly  at  the  old  astrologer.  "  You  have 
taken  a  form  from  the  other  world,  and  now  put 
it  on  to  oppose  me  with.  You  lie  in  my  face 
when  you  say  'twas  I  who  killed  Gushtasp." 

"  I  do  not  lie,  king.  Before  God  I  do  most 
solemnly  swear  that  your  slaves  murdered  the 
noble  Gushtasp — that  'twas  by  your  orders  done, 
and  that  he  died  that  you  might  be  king.  And 
— listen — "  here  the  old  man's  voice  sank  to  a 
terrible  whisper — "  there  was  another  whom  you 
meant  should  die !  another  against  whom  your 
hand  was  raised — and  now  it  was  your  own  hand 
— not  the  hand  of  a  slave,  but  you  yourself  meant 
to  strike  the  blow.  Do  you  remember  1  Look 
at  me,  Sohrab.  Do  you  remember  ?" 

The  king  could  bear  no  more.  With  one  wild 
movement  he  clapped  his  hands  together,  and 
gave  one  frenzied  cry  for  his  slaves. 

"  Beware,  Sohrab  !"  spoke  Kobad,  hurriedly, 
but  distinctly.  "  Let  one  movement  of  yours 
bring  a  tear  to  Zillah's  eye,  and  every  soul  in. 
Persia  shall  know  what  I  know !" 

He  ceased  speaking  just  as  the  slaves  rushed 
into  the  apartment,  and  as  they  entered  he 
raised  the  heavy  tapestry  and  disappeared. 

"  What  ho  !  here — slaves  !  dogs  !  seize  that 
old  dotard  and  bind  and  gag  him  !  Gag  him 
quickly,  and  let  his  mouth  be  stopped  !" 

The  slaves  had  seen  the,  old  man  pass  out  on 
the  instant  before,  and  they  expected  to  raise  the 
arras  and  lay  their  hands  directly  upon  him  ;  but 
they  were  mistaken.  They  sprang  around  the 
marble  pillars  and  raised  the  tapestry,  but 
nothing  of  the  man  they  sought  was  to  be  found. 
There  were  four  passages  leading  from  the  cor 
ridor  that  was  bounded  by  the  arras,  and  into 
each  of  these  passages  sprang  a  slave. 

Ere  'long  the  eunuchs  returned  to  the  king 
and  reported  that  the  old  man  could  not  be 
found. 

"  Not  find  him  ?"  yelled  Sohrab,  starting  back 
and  gazing  into  the  face  of  the  slave  that  had 
spoken. 

"Not  in  the  palace,  sire." 

"But  he  must  be  here  !" 

"  He  is  a  genie  !"  uttered  one  of  the  oldest  of 
the  eunuchs  ;  "  and  he  has  gone  off  in  the  air. 
How  could  he  escape,  when  each  passage  is 
guarded  at  the  other  end  ?  The  slaves  there 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


63 


know  that  he  has  not  passed.  He  may  be  in 
this  very  room  even  now !" 

"  In  here  V  gasped  the  king,  starting  as  though 
he  had  heard  the  call  of  the  death- angel,  and  at 
the  same  time  gazing  nervously  about  him. 
"  He  is  not  here  !" 

"  I  meant  that  he  might  be  here,"  returned  the 
eunuch.  "  Genii  can  go  where  they  please  with 
out  being  seen,  you  know,  for  they  can  change 
themselves  into  thin  air." 

The  king  gazed  into  the  face  of  his  slave, 
and  gradually  he  moved  towards  him  until  he 
could  lay  his  hand  upon  his  arm.  All  this  while 
he  was  very  pale  and  his  step  was  tottering  and 
unsteady. 

"  Bahboul,"  the  monarch  whispered,  "  did  you 
see  that  man  ?" 

"Yes,  sire— when  you  called  us  in  before, 
and  he  ordered  us  to  retire." 

"  Ay — and  did  you  note  his  face — his  eyes — 
those  deep  eyes  of  lustrous  hazel  ?" 

"  Ha !"  So  the  old  slave  uttered,  and  his  black 
face  began  to  work  strangely. 

"  Did  you  note  his  face,  I  say?"  gasped  Sohrab. 

"  I  did !  I  did  !  I  remember  now.  O,  my 
master,  did  I  not  tell  thee  he  was  a  genie  V 

"  Is  he  ?  By  my  life,  Bahboul,  if  you'll  con 
vince  me  that  that  man  was  truly  a  genie,  who 


only  assumed  that  form  iu  which  to  visit  earth, 
I'll  make  you  happy  for  the  rest  of  life." 

"  I  cannot  make  sure,  sire ;  but  you  should 
know  how  he  spoke.  Did'  he  speak  like  one  of 
earth  ?" 

The  king  bowed  his  head  once  more,  and  he 
was  deeply  troubled.  It  was  a  moment  to  him 
of  perplexing  and  agonizing  thought ;  but  in 
the  end  he  murmured,  in  a  low,  sad,  painful  tone : 

"Leave  me,  Bahboul,  and  make  search  through 
the  palace.  Start  up  the  guards — all  of  them — 
and  let  not  a  corner  where  a  mouse  might  hide 
be  missed.  Be  quick,  now — and  mind  that  the 
old  man  is  gagged  the  moment  he  is  taken. 
Away." 

When  Sohrab  was  left  alone,  he  threw  himself 
upon  a  seat  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.  He 
muttered  incoherent  sentences  to  himself,  and 
ever  and  anon  he  would  start  up  and  gaze  about 
him  as  though  he  had  heard  some  frightful  sound. 
In  an  hour  his  slaves  returned  with  the  intelli 
gence  that  the  old  man  was  not  to  be  found. 
Every  place  had  been  searched,  but  no  traces 
of  him  could  be  discovered. 

The  king  once  more  tried  to  calm  himself,  by 
believing  that  his  strange  visitor  was  not  a  hu 
man  being. 


CHAPTER 


HOMELESS. 


Feridoon  first  heard  of  the  stroke  of 
fate  which  had  fallen  upon  Zillah,  he  was  beside 
himself  with  rage  and  grief,  and  but  for  the  earn 
est  appeals  and  assurances  of  the  astrologer,  he 
would  have  gone  at  once  to  the  royal  palace  and 
attempted  her  liberation. 

"  She  shall  be  saved,"  said  Kobad,  "for  though 
the  king  has  her  now  in  his  power,  yet  he  will 
not  dare  to  harm  her." 

"But  such  a  villain  dares  anything," returned 
Feridoon.  "  It  is  a  trait  of  cowardly  character, 
that  the  individual  may  be  sometimes  led  by  .his 
wicked  passions  to  do  that  which  in  another 
would  require  a  vast  amount  of  courage." 

"  Ay,  my  son,  unless  you  can  work  upon  the 
fears  powerfully  enough  to  restrain  them.  Now 
I  know  that  the  king  would  sooner  have  his  good 
right  hand  cut  off,  and  his  body  buried  in  lep 
rosy,  than  do  harm  to  Zillah.  I  have  seen  the 
foul  monarch,  and  I  have  left  him  with  a  cue 
from  which  he  will  not  depart." 

"But  how?" 

"  I  know  of  a  most  foul  murder  he  once  com 
mitted — the  murder  of  a  man  whom  the  people 
most  fondly  loved— and  I  told  him  of  it ;  and  I 
told  him,  too,  that  if  he  did  harm  to  Zillah  all 
men  should  know  his  sins.  Be  sure  he  would 
not  have  those  sins  known  for  all  the  wives  earth 
can  give." 


"  But  how  long  ere  I  can  see  my  love  ?" 
"  I  cannot  tell.    She  may  not  recover  from  her 
sickness  before  the  lapse  of  a  week.   But  be  sure 
you  shall  see  her,  and  in  health  and  purity." 

It  was  difficult  for  the  youth  to  restrain  him 
self,  but  when  he  came  at  length  to  see  that  his 
interference  now  might  cause  Zillah's  malady  to 
assume  a  more  dangerous  phase,  he  concluded 
to  let  her  remain  where  she  was,  and  to  trust 
the  word  of  his  friend.  After  this  he  went  away, 
for  he  had  much  to  do,  and  Feridoon  was  left 
alone.  It  was  now  near  evening  on  the  day 
following  the  visit  of  Kobad  to  the  royal  palace. 
Our  hero  had  been  alone  only  some  ten  min 
utes,  when  Rustem  entered.  Of  late  the  satrap 
had  said  but  little  to  his  protege,  for  he  felt  some 
what  angry  at  what  had  passed.  The  old  noble 
came  in  and  sat  down,  and  for  some  time  he 
regarded  the  youth  in  silence.  At  length  he 
said  : 

"  Feridoon,  I  have  done  much  for  you,  and  to 
me  you  surely  owe  the  manhood  you  now  pos 
sess." 

"  I  owe  you  much,  my  father,  and  deeply  do  I 
feel  it,"  returned  the  youth,  sincerely. 
"  Then  you  should  obey  me  now." 
"  In  all  things  reasonable,  my  father." 
"  Ay,  and  you  should  let  me  be  the  judge  of 
what  is  right." 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


65 


"Look  ye,  noble  sir,"  spoke  Feridoon,  prompt 
ly  and  energetically,  "if  I  am  to  feel  grateful  for 
the  manhood  you  have  given  me,  of  course  it 
must  be  because  I  find  joy  in  exercising  the 
powers  your  gifts  have  bestowed  upon  me.  But 
if  you  are  still  to  do  my  thinking — if  you  are  to 
judge  of  what  is  right  for  me,  then  what  benefit 
results  to  me  from  your  favor  ?" 

"  Listen,  my  son.  The  king  demands  that  you 
shall  relinquish  your  claim  upon  the  love  of  the 
cobbler's  daughter;  that  you  shall  write  to  her 
and  say  you  can  love  her  no  more,  and  that  you 
shall  also  bid  her,  if  she  still  loves  you,  to  turn 
all  her  faith  to  the  king ;  that  she  shall  be  his 
wife,  and  be  loving  and  faithful  unto  him." 

"Did  the  king  make  such  a  demand?"  ut 
tered  the  youth,  starting  up. 

"  He  did." 

"  And  what  said  you  in  return  ?" 

"  That  I  would  do  his  bidding." 

"  O — and  does  Sohrab  think  us  all  fools  T  By 
my  life,  I  would  sooner  bury  my  dagger  deep 
within  my  own  heart  than  prove  myself  such  a 
villanous  coward !  But  much  sooner  would  I 
put  my  weapon's  point  to  his  dastard  heart — 
and  so  you  may  tell  him  !" 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  flush  of  anger 
upon  the  satrap's  cheek,  but  it  soon  passed  away, 
and  an  expression  of  earnest,  eager  imploring 
took  its  place. 

"  My  son,"  he  resumed,  "  that  is  not  all  the 
king  said.  He  also  swore  most  solemnly  that 
if  you  did  not  his  bidding  he  would  take  your 
life!" 

"  Take  my  life  ?  By  the  laws  of  Persia  and 
the  sacred  creed  of  God,  he  dare  not !" 

"  But  he  can  do  it  quickly.  You  have  opposed 
his  authority  and  killed  his  servants.  Remem 
ber,  my  son,  that  sixty-nine  of  his  soldiers  have 
fallen  by  your  hand,  and  that,  too,  while  they 
were  lawfully  obeying  their  royal  master." 

"  You  know  how  they  were  obeying  and  what 
they  were  obeying." 

"  I  know  all  that,  my  son,  but  we  must  re 
member  that  our  laws  know  nothing  about  it.  I 
have  read  the  laws  of  our  nation  many  times, 
for  I  have  helped  administer  them  during  many 
years,  and  I  know  that  the  king,  or  any  other 
person,  has  but  to  accuse  you,  to  compass  your 
death.  Be  sure  your  life  is  forfeited  by  our  laws. 
Only  look  at  it,  Feridoon.  Suppose  every  man 
could  do  as  you  have  done,  with  impunity,  sim 
ply  because  he  judged  the  mission  unjust  in 


which  those  were  engaged  whom  he  slew.    You 
see  what  a  state  of  things  would  exist." 

"  I  understand  you,"  answered  Feridoon,  calm 
ly.  "  But  I  have  one  criterion  now,  that  to  me, 
at  least,  appears  just.  I  can  look  calmly  to 
heaven  and  bare  my  heart  to  God,  that  he  may 
see  all  that  it  contains.  I  have  no  sorrow  for 
what  I  have  done,  save  that  I  mourn  for  those 
misguided  men  who  fell  beneath  my  arm,  and  I 
would  suffer  much  could  I  bring  them  back  to 
life." 

"  But  do  you  realize,  my  son,  that  your  death 
is  sure  to  follow  this  obstinacy  ?  If  you  do  not 
as  the  king  has  commanded,  you  are  sure  to  die." 

"If,"  quickly  added  the  youth,  "  he  can  do 
that  thing." 

"  Of  course  the  king  can  do  his  will." 

"  Very  well.  .  Now  here  is  my  answer.  Not 
for  all  the  favors  kings  can  bestow,  nor  in  fear 
of  all  the  penalties  they  can  inflict,  will  I  give  up 
one  iota  of  my  claim  upon  the  love  of  Zillah  ; 
and  this  is  my  reason.  Every  principle  of  right 
and  justice  gives  her  to  me,  and  the  will  of  the 
king  is  nothing  but  black  and  rank  wickedness, 
to  the  commands  of  which  I  will  never  submit. 
I  am  in  the  path  of  honor  and  virtue,  and  I  shall 
stake  my  life  for  its  maintenance.  If  the  king 
can  take  it,  it  is  his  ;  but  he  must  be  a  wonderful 
man  if  he  can  take  it." 

Rustem  started  back  in  his  seat,  for  the  youth 
had  risen  as  he  spoke  the  last  sentence,  and 
there  was  something  so  superbly  grand  in  his 
very  appearance  that  the  satrap  was  for  the  mo 
ment  awe-struck.  But  all  this  soon  passed,  for 
there  was  a  stern  reality  staring  him  in  the  face, 
of  which  he  had  not  yet  spoken,  and  that  weighed 
heavily  tipon  his  mind  with  more  power  than 
could  all  the  ideas  of  which  the  youth  had  spok 
en.  He  made  known  that  idea  as  follows : 

"  If  you  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  all  this,  then  listen 
while  I  speak  one  other  thing  :  the  king  has  also 
sworn  that  /  shall  die  if  you  do  not  do  as  he  has 
asked !" 

"  Is  this  true  ?" 

"  Most  true." 

"But  the  king  does  not  mean  it." 

"  I  know  he  does." 

"  He  dares  not  do  such  a  thing  !" 

"  I  tell  you  he  dares  do  anything.  Now  will 
you  see  your  father  die  ?" 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it.  I  will  protect  you 
with  the  last  movement  of  my  strength,  and  for 
your  sake  I  will  brave  death  itself." 


66 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


"  And  yon  will  give  tip  this  wild  passion  your 
heart  has  held  ?" 

"  Do  you  mean  my  love  for  Zillah  ?" 

"Yes." 

Feridoon  did  not  reply  at  once.  He  arose 
from  his  chair,  and  paced  to  and  fro  across  the 
room  several  times  ere  he  spoke  ;  and  when  he 
did  speak,  his  voice  was  very  low  but  yet  very 
firm  and  decided. 

"  I  wish  tHat  you  might  escape  this  affair,  for 
no  blame  can  be  attached  to  you  even  by  the  king. 
But  this  last  movement  shows  him  to  be  worse 
in  disposition  and  intent  than  we  had  even 
painted  him.  But  I  will  not  give  up  to  him." 

"  Not  to  save  my  life  ?" 

""Would  you  have  me  do  it?"  asked  the 
youth,  with  startling  energy,  as  he  moved  quick 
ly  forward  and  placed  his  hand  on  the  satrap's 
nrm. 

"  I  would  not  die,"  answered  Rustem. 

"  Nor  would  I  sell  my  soul  to  a  wicked  king 
for  the  life  of  any  man,"  promptly  returned  Fer- 
idoon.  "  What  shall  be  your  joy  henceforth 
when  you  realize  that  hereafter  every  breath  you 
draw  is  but  the  remembrancer  of  another's  woe  ? 
I  am  sorry.  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  you,  but 
I  will  not  sell  my  own  soul.  So  you  may  tell 
the  king." 

"  And  is  this  your  final  answer  ?" 

"It  is,  most  surely." 

Rustem  arose,  and  there  was  anger  and  cha 
grin  upon  his  features.  He  could  hate  as  strong 
ly  as  he  could  love,  and  his  heart  could  turn  its 
tide  of  affection  into  a  stream  of  gall  at  a  provo 
cation  that  aimed  itself  at  his  self-love.  He  spoke 
not  another  word,  but  with  a  flashing  eye  and  a 
frowning  brow,  he  strode  from  the  apartment. 

When  Feridoon  was  left  alone  he  reflected  upon 
what  had  passed.  He  knew  the  temper  of  Rus 
tem,  and  he  knew  that  there  was  much  love  of 
self  above  all  other  things  in  his  composition. 
And  he  remembered,  too,  how  wickedly  the  king 
had  acted,  and  he  was  resolved  that  he  would 
not  bow  to  such  a  villain  in  the  dust  of  shame 
and  agony.  So  he  repented  not  of  what  had 
passed. 

The  evening  advanced  and  the  shades  of  night 
were  gathered  about  the  great  city.  The  can 
dles  had  been  lighted  in  Feridoon's  apartments, 
and  he  was  engaged  in  reading  a  manuscript 
that  belonged  to  Rustem,  when  a  slave  entered 
bearing  a  slip  of  parchment  in  his  hand,  which 
he  handed  to  the  youth.  The  latter  took  it  and 
read,  and  when  he  had  finished  he  started  up  to 


speak  with  the  slave  who  had  brought  it,  but  he 
was  gone. 

Feridoon  ran  his  eyes  over  the  document  once 
more,  and  then  a  grim  smile  rested  upon  his  fea 
tures.  It  ran  as  follows  : 

"  To  FERIDOON,  of  the  Lion  Heart: 

"  I  wish  not  to  recount  what  has  transpired, 
knowing  full  well  that  no  words  of  mine  can 
make  it  plainer  to  you  than  it  now  must  be. 
But  my  house  can  no  longer  be  your  home — 
my  roof  can  no  longer  cover  you.  If  you  can 
not  find  it  in  your  heart  to  comply  with  the 
commands  I  have  laid  upon  you  from  the  king, 
then  must  you  find  another  home.  I  wish  not 
to  see  you  again  unless  you  come  to  obey.  Go 
your  way  and  act  your  own  pleasure,  and  remem 
ber  that  henceforth  you  are  no  child  or  friend  of 
mine.  RUSTEM." 

Feridoon  rolled  up  the  parchment  and  placed 
it  in  his  pocket,  and  then  he  called  his  slaves  to 
him  and  informed  them  that  he  was  going  out. 
He  would  not  tell  them  where  he  was  going, 
nor  how  long  he  meant  to  remain — he  only  told 
them  he  was  going  away,  and  he  bade  them  to 
remain  behind.  After  this,  he  dressed  himself 
in  a  plain  suit,  taking  the  precaution  to  put  on 
a  light,  firm  shirt  of  mail  which  had  been  fur 
nished  for  him  when  he  received  his  lessons  in 
warfare.  What  money  really  belonged  to  him 
he  took,  and  then,  with  his  faithful  sword  and 
dagger,  he  departed.  He  did  not  stop  until  he 
reached  a  point  where  a  view  of  Rustem's  pal 
ace  was  cut  off,  but  when  he  had  gained  this  he 
slackened  his  pace  and  finally  halted. 

It  was  now  qxiite  dark,  the  night  having  fairly 
aet  in,  and  there  being  no  moon.  A  sense  of 
loneliness  crept  over  Feridoon's  soul,  for  he  was 
like  a  stranger  in  the  great  city.  For  Kobad  he 
knew  not  where  to  look.  Zillah  was  in  the  royal 
palace,  and  who  should  tell  where  good  Zak 
Turan  might  be  ?  At  length,  however,  he  turned 
his  steps  to  the  house  where  the  honest  cobbler 
was  wont  to  dwell,  with  the  faint  hope  that  he 
might  find  some  one  there  who  could  direct  htm. 
He  reached  the  house  and  found  four  soldier? 
stationed  there. 

"  How  now  ?-"  he  asked,  seeing  that  they  were 
armed  only  with  swords.  "  What  do  ye  here  ?" 

"  We  are  watching  for  the  king,"  replied  one 
of  them. 

"  Watching  for  the  king  ?" 

"  At  his  command,  I  mean." 

"  And  wherefore  ?" 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


67 


"For  the  purpose  of  finding  one  whom  the 
king  feareth." 

"'And  who  is  it  ?" 

"Kobad,  he  is  called,  and  he  is  an  astrologer." 

"  Ah— then  the  king  fears  him  ?" 

"  Ay,  verily — for  he  soweth  sedition  among 
the  people." 

"Is  Zak  Turan  within  the  house  ?" 

"  No,  for  we  seek  him,  too." 

"  Ah  ?" 

"  Yes.  The  king  wants  both  him  and  his  wife 
to  come  and  console  a  weeping  damsel  whom  he 
hath  taken  to  his  home  with  him." 

"  I  would  have  seen  the  cobbler,  but  'tis  no 
matter  now,"  said  the  youth,  as  he  turned  away 
from  the  place.  He  saw  that  the  soldiers  did 
not  know  him,  and  he  had  no  desire  that  they 
should,  so  he  moved  on  down  the  street  towards 
the  old  sepulchre.  He  knew  not  whither  he  was 
going,  neither  did  he  care.  His  chief  desire  was 
to  find  the  astrologer,  but  he  knew  not  which 
way  to  turn,  for  he  had  not  the  least  idea  where 
the  old  man  was. 

The  youth  kept  on  until  he  came  to  the  sepul 


chre,  which  was  dug  out  from  the  solid  cliff,  and 
here  he  sat  down.  He  gazed  up  at  the  frowning 
front  of  the  place,  and  in  the  gloom  he  could 
see  the  quaint  sculpture  that  stood  out  from 
its  parent  rock.  Here  was  the  dwelling  of  the 
dead,  and  he  thought,  as  he  sat  there  and  viewed 
the  ponderous  doors  of  solid  metal,  how  many 
mortals  had  ended  their  earthly  pilgrimage  there  ! 

"  Ah  I"  he  murmured  to  himself,  "  here  life's 
journey  ends,  and  king  and  slave  aleep  both 
alike.  The  mighty  race  of  kings  who  sleep  here 
—the  renowned  Paishdadians — are  no  more  now 
than  the  slaves  who  cringed  at  their  feet !  Then 
how  should  the  man  live  who  would  have  his 
name  remembered  where  memory  is  worth  the 
having?  Surely,  honor  and  truth,  virtue  and 
justice,  must  be  the  properties  that  shall  embalm 
it." 

Thus  he  pondered  for  a  while,  and  at  length 
he  arose  and  turned  his  steps  once  more  towards 
the  city.  He  felt  strong  now  in  his  resolution, 
and  he  had  prayed  to  God  for  guidance  and 
counsel.  But  he  had  not  yet  a  resting-place,  nor 
did  he  know  whither  his  steps  would  bring  him, 


CHAPTER  XV. 


DANGERS   AND   FEARS. 


TJIE  satrap  heard  Feridoon  when  he  left  the 
palace,  and  though  there  may  have  been  a  slight 
pang  at  the  thought  of  thus  losing  his  protege, 
yet  he  was  too  wroth  to  have  it  pain  him  much. 
Rustem  felt  that  the  youth  owed  to  him  all  the 
obedience  of  an  own  child,  and  among  all  the 
social  laws  of  Persia  there  was  none  more  bind 
ing  than  the  reverence  and  obedience  of  parents. 
Rustem  could  have,  borne  with  Feridoon's  first 
refusal,  however,  but  when  he  came  to  refuse  to 
sacrifice  his  whim  (so  Rustem  called  it),  to  save 
the  life  of  his  protector,  his  anger  could  be  con 
tained  no  longer.  His  heart  was  wholly  estrang 
ed  now,  and  he  hated  the  youth  as  much  as  he 
had  ever  loved  him.  It  was  one  of  the  pecu* 
liarities  of  the  man. 

As  soon  as  Feridoon  had  gone,  the  satrap 
went  up  to  the  apartments  he  had  occupied  and 
bade  the  slaves  go  and  join  those  below,  at  the 
same  time  telling  them  that  they  would  serve 
their  late  master  no  more.  The  poor  fellows 
were  really  wild  with  grief  when  they  heard  this, 
but  they  saw  that  the  satrap  was  angry  and  they 
asked  no  questions. 

When  this  was  done,  Rustem  prepared  to  wait 
upon  the  king,  for  Sohrab  had  demanded  to 
know  his  success  before  he  slept.  He  called 
some  of  his  slaves  to  attend  him,  and  as  speedily 
as  possible  he  made  his  way  to  the  royal  palace. 


He  found  the  king  waiting  for  him  in  One  of  the 
private  apartments,  which  was  lighted  up  by 
hanging  lamps  of  solid  gold. 

"  Now,  Rustem,  what  luck  ?"  asked  the  mon^ 
arch)  even  before  the  satrap  had  fairly  let  fall  the 
arras  behind  him. 

"  It  is  of  no  use,"  returned  the  visitor,  in  a 
fearful  tone.  "  The  young  man  will  not  comply. 
I  told  him  all,  but  it  made  no  impression  upon 
him.  I  have  turned  him  from  my  gate,  and  no 
more  will  I  give  him  a  home,  or  even  coun 
tenance  him  in  any  way." 

At  first  the  king  became  angry,  but  when  he 
learned  Rustem  had  turned  the  offender  from  his 
dwelling  he  became  somewhat  appeased,  for  it 
conveyed  to  him  the  simple  idea  that  the  satrap 
sympathised  with  him.  For  some  moments  the 
monarch  paced  up  and  down  the  apartment  with 
out  speaking,  and  when  he  did  speak  he  was 
much  calmer  than  Rustem  had  dared  to  hope ; 
but  this  calmness  was  the  result  of  deep  passion. 

"  Rustem,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  have  the  youth 
seised  and  brought  hither,  and  this  time  he  may 
be  assured  he  gets  not  away  alive.  Not  only 
would  I  have  him  bid  Zillah  accept  my  love, 
but  I  would  nip  in  the  bud  a  plan  of  rebellion 
which  I  am  sure  he  countenances.  By^y  royal 
head,  Rustem/'  added  Sohrab,  growing  more 
vehement  in  speech  and  gesture,  "  you  dream 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


not  what  a  cloud  is  gathering  over  us'.  The  peace 
of  the  city — ay,  of  the  whole  country,  is  endan 
gered.  That  crasy  old  astrologer  is  doing  much 
mischief,  and  I  fear  that  this  Feridoon  is  leagued 
with  him  in  his  crime.  That  old  man  must  be 
Found.*' 

"  He  was  in  my  palace  this  very  evening) 
sire." 

"  How  ?    In  your  palace— this  evening  «" 

"  Yes,  sire.'* 

"  Then,  by  heaven,  why  did'  yo\i  not  detain 
him?" 

"I  knew  not  of  his  presence  there  till  he  had 
departed." 

"  O,  God  give  me  power  now  over  him  !"  ex 
claimed  the  monarch,  starting  across  the  room 
and  raising  the  silken  arras.  "  What  ho,  there ! 
Slaves !" 

In  a  very  few  moments  a  doeen  slaves  came 
fcnshing  in.  "they  moved  more  quickly  than 
Usual  now,  for  their  royal  master  had  become  of 
late  very  petulant. 

"  Now,  Eastern,  which  way  went  the  dotard  ?" 

"  I  know  not,  sire,"  returned  the  satrap  j  and 
after  a  moment's  reflection,  he  added  :  M  but  if 
your  majesty  means  to  send  out  your  slaves 
after  him,  they  might  stop  at  my  outer  gate*  and 
mayhap  my  porter  can  give  some  further  intellr* 
gence*" 

This  plan  the  king  resolved  to  follow,  and  he 
at  once  despatched  a  hundred  of  his  best  sol 
diers,  directing  them  to  divide  themselves  into 
ten  parties  of  ten  each,  and  to  scour  the  city  all 
through* 

"  By  my  life,  Rustem,"  he  said,  after  the  sol 
diers  had  gone,  "those  two  rebels  shall  be 
brought)  dead  or  alive,  and  when  they  come,  if 
they  come  alive,  they  shall  surely  die  !  I  know 
that  they  have  foul  plots  on  foot,  and  they  shall 
be  stopped  in  their  wicked  work.  Lend  me  your 
aid,  for  I  shall  need  it.  Every  true  man  must 
now  stand  by  his  king,  for  I  tell  you  the  throne 
of  Persia  topples  now  upon  its  base  ;  and  what 
is  Persia  when  her  throne  is  overturned  ?  There 
is  danger,  Rustem !  There  is  treason — rank, 
foul  treason,  abroad.  Have  ye  act  seen  it  ?  By 
my  soul,  I  can  smell  it  in  the  very  air  !  There's 
a  phantom  about  me,  howling  dire  threats  in  my 
ear,  and  airy  daggers  are  aimed  at  me !  Can  ye 
not  see  them,  Rustem  ?" 

During  the  delivery  of  this  strange  speech,  the 
monarch  hud  been  walking  to  and  fro,  and  his 
manner  was  vehement  and  excited.  His  face 
was  pale  a«d  his  eyes  glared  wildly.  He  stop- 


ped,  as  he  ceased  speaking,  directly  in  front  of 
the  satrap,  and  gaeed  him  in  the  face. 

"  Can  ye  not  see  them,  Rustem  ?"  he  repeated, 

The  satrap  was  confounded,  and  he  knew  not 
how  to  reply.  He  feared  the  king's  mind  was 
turned— and  he  Was  not  far  from  right, 

*'  I  was  not  aware,  sire,"  he  at  length  replied) 
"of  so  much  danger," 

"  Were  you  not  1  But  be  sure  I  am  not  mis 
taken*  Go  now,  and  let  me  see  you  again  on 
the  morrow," 

"  Shall  you  bring  the  old  astrologer  to  judg 
ment  to*morrow,  if  he  is  taken  ?"  asked  Rustem* 

"  Bring  him  to  judgment !  Do  you  mean, 
shall  I  bring  him  to  the  judgment  hall  ?" 

'*  Yes,  sire*" 

"AfoJ    He  shall  die  in  his  dungeon !" 

And  so  the  king  meant  he  should  die,  for  not 
for  half  of  his  kingdom  would  he  have  had  that 
old  man  open  his  lips  before  his  officers*  Not 
for  his  own  right  arm  would  he  have  had  that 
old  man's  face  seen  by  those  who  might  remem 
ber  him  as  one  they  had  seen  before* 

As  soon  as  Sohrab  was  left  alone,  he  com 
menced  once  more  to  pace  the  room,  for  he  was 
in  a  state  of  mind  bordering  on  craainess,  His 
heart  was  torn  by  wild  emotions,  and  his  brain 
was  turned  by  fearful  phantasms.  For  half  aa 
hoar  he  remained  thus,  and  then  he  left  the 
apartment  and  entered  a  long,  winding  corridor, 
Which  was  flanked  on  either  hand  by  marble  pil 
lars,  and  lighted  at  short  intervals  by  hanging 
lamps  of  gold.  His  way  now  lay  towards  the 
chamber  where  Zillah  was  confined.  He  reached 
it  and  entered  without  ceremony ;  be  found  the 
maiden  awake,  and  the  attendant  informed  him 
that  the  physician  pronounced  her,  not  only  out 
of  danger,  but  rapidly  gaining.  The  king  was 
pleased  with  this  information,  and  having  ordered 
the  attendant  to  leave  the  chamber,  toe  seated 
himself  by  the  bedside* 

Zillah  was  awake,  and  a  perceptible  shudder 
ran  through  her  frame  as  she  thus  found  her 
royal  persecutor  by  her  side.  But  she  did  not 
repulse  him*  She  knew  that  he  would  not  harm 
her  now,  and  she  had  presence  of  mind  enough 
to  know  that  it  would  be  better  for  her  not  to 
exhibit  her  real  feelings,  for  she  was  not  igno 
rant  of  the  fact  that  nothing  would  more  exas 
perate  a  man  than  scorn  and  disgust  from  one 
whom  he  would  conciliate.  But  she  meant  not 
to  lie — she  did  not  mean  to  flatter  him  by  pro 
fessing  any  feeling  which  did  not  exist  in  her 
bosom.  She  would  conceal,  but  not  fabricate. 


70 


THE  KING  ANJ)  COBBLER. 


"  Sweet  angel,"  said  the  king,  in  a  tone  as  soft 
and  tender  as  he  could  command,  "  you  know 
not  how  happy  this  report  of  your  health  has 
made  me.  I  trust  the  time  is  not  far  distant 
when  you  shall  be  yourself  once  more,  and  accept 
the  fond  and  devoted  heart  I  have  given  you. 
You  will  learn  to  love  me,  Zillah." 

"  Alas,  sire,  my  poor  love  is  not  worth  your 
seeking." 

"  Yes  it  is.  By  my  royal  crown,  it  is  worth 
more  than  the  loves  of  all  other  women  beside." 

"  But  my  heart,  I  fear,  can  never  learn  to  love 
you." 

"  Say  not  so.  Take  back  that  fear,  and  com 
mence  now  to  learn  the  lesson  of  love.  You 
have  loved.  Is  it  not  so  ?" 

Zillah  gazed  up  into  the  monarch's  face,  and 
after  a  moment  of  doubt  she  replied  : 

"  Yes,  and  my  heart  is  no  longer  mine  own." 

"  You  loved  the  youth  called  Feridoon  1" 

"  Yes,  sire/' 

"  Alas,  sweet  Zillah,  you  are  not  to  blame  for 
loving  the  stout  youth,  but  I  know  full  well  that 
you  would  never  live  happily  with  him.  He  has 
a  most  direful  temper,  and  over  it  he  holds  no 
control.  He  is  not  fit  to  possess  so  sweet  a 
flower,  for  he  has  no  shelter  to  offer  thee — not 
even  a  roof  to  cover  his  own  head." 

"What  mean  you,  sire  ?"  the  maiden  asked,  in 
surprise,  for  the  speech  of  the  king  had  a  truth 
ful  sound. 

"  I  mean  that  the  youth  has  no  shelter.  He  is 
but  a  beggar  in  the  city." 

"  Is  he  not  with  his  father  ?" 

"  He  is  not  with  Rustem,  for  the  old  noble 
has  been  obliged  to  turn  him  from  his  gates. 
His  disposition  was  such  that  there  was  no  peace 
in  living  with  him,  and  the  old  man  was  obliged 
to  turn  him  off.  It  was  hard  for  the  satrap,  for 
he  loved  the  youth  well,  but  he  could  not  put  up 
with  his  evil  and  his  hardness  of  heart." 

"  Hardness  of  heart,  sire  V  iterated  Zillah,  in 
a  sad  tone,  and  about  which  there  seemed  to  be 
an  air  of  reproof. 

"Ay.  Let  me  tell  thee.  Feridoon  had  form 
ed  a  certain  project  which  came  in  the  end  to 
endanger  the  satrap's  life.  Kustem  went  to  him 
and  explained  this — told  him  that  his  own  life 
was  in  danger  from  his,  the  young  man's,  plan, 
and  asked  him  to  give  it  up,  and  what,  think 
you,  was  Feridoon's  reply  1" 

"  I  know  not,"  returned  the  maiden,  trembling. 

"  It  was  a  decided  negative.  He  utterly  re 
fused  to  comply  with  his  protector's  wishes." 


"  But  there  must  have  been  some  deep'princi" 
pie  involved — some  idea  of  right  which  the 
youth  could  not  overstep." 

"  No,  not  so.  It  was  only  a  whim  of  his  own 
— a  caprice." 

"  Will  you  explain  it  to  me  ?  Tell  me  what 
it  was  he  would  not  give  up," 

"  Really,  I  cannot  now  tell,  for  I  was  very 
busy  at  the  time  upon  another  point,  and  I  did 
not  ask ;  but  I  think  it  was  something  about  a 
female  slave  that  Feridoon  had  bought.  Ha, 
yes  !  I  remember  now,"  broke  forth  the  king,  to 
whose  mind  a  very  handy  lie  had  come — a  lie 
with  two  edges  that  might  cut  both  ways.  "  Yes, 
yes,  I  have  it  now.  Feridoon  bought  a  beautiful 
female  of  a  Caucasian  merchant,  and  afterwards 
it  proved  that  she  had  a  lover  among  the  mer 
chant's  followers.  This  lover  was  a  powerful, 
dark  man,  and  he  swore  that  if  his  beloved  was 
not  given  up  to  him,  he  would  murder  the  sa 
trap,  for  he  imagined  that  the  satrap  had  the 
power  to  give  her  up  if  he  chose.  When  Rus- 
tem  heard  of  this  he  was  sore  afraid,  and  he 
went  at  once  to  Feridoon  and  asked  him  to  give 
up  the  slave,  at  the  same  time  stating  the  danger 
whick-threatened  him.  But  the  youth  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  all  his  entreaties.  He  loved  the 
beautiful  slave,  and  would  not  give  her  up." 

A  sharp,  cruel  pang  shot  to  poor  Zillah's 
heart  as  she  heard  this,  and  a  low,  stifled  sob 
broke  from  her  lips. 

"  O,"  she  at  length  uttered,  rising  half  up  in 
bed,  "  this  cannot  be  1" 

"  It  is  most  true,  fair  one." 

"  It  cannot  be.  Feridoon  loves  no  slave  girl ; 
he  cannot." 

"  Be  not  deceived,  Zillah.  You  do  not  know 
the  man  as  others  know  him." 

The  maiden  sank  back  upon  the  pillow  and 
closed  her  eyes.  A  moment  she  remained  thus, 
and  when  she  suddenly  opened  her  eyes  again 
upon  the  king,  she  saw  a  look  of  fiendish  tri 
umph  just  curling  about  his  mouth  and  eyes. 
In  an  instant  the  conviction  went  to  her  soul 
that  Sohrab  was  lying  to  her,  and  she  resolved 
to  question  him. 

"  Sire,"  she  said,  "  when  did  Feridoon  pur 
chase  this  slave  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  But  he  must  have  had  her  some  time,  if  ha 
loves  her  so  well." 

"  About  a  week,  I  believe." 

Now  Zillah  knew  that  was  false,  for  it  was 
only  the  day  before  that  Kobad  had  been  with 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


71 


her,  and  told  her  all  about  Feridoon,  and  she 
knew  that  he  had  no  slave  girl  then.  So  her 
mind  was  quickly  relieved,  and  she  knew  that 
the  king  was  deceiving  her ;  but  she  said  nothing 
about  her  conviction. 

"And  now/'  resumed  Sohrab,  "you  shall 
find  here  a  heart  that  shall  be  wholly  yours.  I 
will  love  you  fondly  and  truly,  and  your  joy 
shall  be  my  joy,  and  your  pain  my  pain.  Shall 
it  not  be  so  ?" 

"Ask  me  not  now,  sire.  My  head  aches  and 
my  soul  is  pained.  Let  me  rest  now." 

"  So  you  shall,"  cried  the  ki»g,  rising  and 
bending  over  the  sweet,  pale  face  of  the  invalid. 
"  You  may  rest  now,  and  ponder  upon  what  I 


have  said.  You  must  love  me,  and  I  know  you 
will.  Be  sure  that  I  shall  make  you  happy." 

He  kissed  her  upon  the  brow  as  he  ceased 
speaking,  and  then  left  the  apartment.  He  had 
hopes  now  and  so  had  Zillah.  Kobad  had  assured 
her  that  she  should  be  saved,  let  the  king  do  his 
utmost,  and  she  had  much  confidence  in  that  old 
man's  power  to  save  her,  for  she  had  seen  enough 
of  his  character  to  know  that  he  never  spoke 
falsely. 

Very  differently  did  those  two,  the  king  and 
the  maiden,  regard  the  aged  astrologer.  One 
feared  him  with  a  fear  that  amounted  to  almost 
a  deadly  power ;  and  the  other  loved  him  with  a 
love  that  amounted  to  a  holy  reverence. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


ANOTHER  FAILURE,  BUT  NOT  WITHOUT  A  SUCCESS, 


WHILE  the  king  was  trying  to  deceive  Zillah 
into  a  more  favorable  regard  for  himself,  three  of 
our  acquaintances  were  together,  planning  for 
the  future.  They  were  Kobad  and  the  old  cob 
bler  and  wife,  and  their  place  of  meeting  waa  in 
a  cave  not  far  from  the  one  in  which  they  were 
before.  This  cave  in  which  they  now  were,  was 
further  in  among  the  rocks,  and  not  so  spacious 
nor  comfortable  as  the  other.  Yet  it  served 
well  enough  for  the  purpose,  for  its  existence 
was  not  known  to  the  soldiers,  and  its  inmates 
were  protected  from  the  inclemencies  of  the 
weather. 

But  these  three  were  not  alone.  There  were 
three  others  there — three  officers  of  the  govern 
ment  ;  old  men,  and  holding  places  of  honor  and 
trust.  They  had  been  conversing  some  time  and 
the  subject  of  conversation  must  have  been  one 
of  deep  interest,  for  the  officers  showed  by  their 
looks  that  they  were  astonished  and  interested. 

"  I  thought  that  there  must  have  been  foul 
play,"  said  one  of  them,  "  when  he  was  killed. 
Gushtasp  would  not  have  been  killed  by  the  rob 
bers  on  the  desert,  for  all  of  them  knew  him  and 
loved  him.  But  how  will  you  prove  this  to  the 
people  ?" 

"  By  my  word,"  returned  Kobad. 

"  But  the  king  will  not  let  you  speak.  He 
will  have  you  seized  and  gagged  at  once/' 


A  strange  smile  flitted  across  the  astrologer's 
face,  and  for  a  while  he  gazed  down  upon  the 
rock  at  his  feet  in  silence.  At  length  he  said : 

"  Once  I  had  some  dealings  with  our  king  and 
he  knows  me  well.  My  power  is  too  great  for 
him  to  break.  I  could  perform  some  things  that 
would  make  both  him  and  you  start  and  trem-- 
ble.  Sohrab  cannot  harm  me.  I  am  protected 
by  a  strange  charm  which  he  cannot  break.  Yon 
have  heard  often  of  my  knowledge,  and  of  my 
power  as  a  necromancer,  but  you  do  not  dream 
how  much  of  that  remarkable  power  I  really 
possess.  I  do  assure  you  that  with  one  single 
movement  J  can  so  work  upon  the  king  that  he 
shall  not  move  except  at  my  bidding." 

The  three  officers  regarded  each  other  in  silence 
and  surprise.  One  of  them  at  length  moved 
nearer  to  the  strange  man,  and  in  a  low  tone 
asked : 

"  You  are  sore  Gushtasp  is  dead  ?" 

"  Most  sure,"  returned  Kobad ;  and  then,  with 
a  quiet  smile,  he  added  :  "  yoti  did  not  imagine 
that  you  saw  Gushtasp  now  before  you,  did 
you*" 

"  I  did  not  know  who-  you  might  be." 

"  No,  no*,"  returned  the  astrologer,  in  a  sad 
tone,  "  there  is  no  such  good  news.  Gttshtasp 
was  stabbed  to  the  heart  and  killed  at  once.  He 
is  now  in  the  h^me  of  spirits,  where  we  may  all 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


73 


meet  him  ere  long,  for  age  is  creeping  upon  us 
apace.  But  let  that  pass.  Gushtasp  is  long 
since  dead,  and  he  died  by  the  order  of  Sohrab, 
and  of  that  fact  the  people  must  soon  be  ap 
prised.  I  shall  need  your  co-operation,  and  in 
return  you  may  rest  assured  that  no  harm  shall 
come  to  you.  We  must  meet  again,  and  in  the 
meantime,  I  would  have  you  watch  the  king." 

"  We  will,"  answered  one  of  the  official  trio, 
"  for  such  as  he  will  bear  much  watching." 

"Ay,"  added  another;  "and  well  would  it 
hare  been  for  Persia  could  he  have  been  watched 
as  he  deserved  years  ago." 

"Better  late  than  never,"  remarked  Kobad. 
"But  now  onr  conference  is  ended  and  we  may 
return  to  the  city,  only  remember  that  we  sepa 
rate  before  we  reach  the  routes  of  the  royal  senti 
nels." 

Having  spoken  some  words  of  cheer  to  Zak 
Turan,  the  astrologer  left  the  cave  in  company 
with  the  three  officers,  but  erelong  they  sepa 
rated,  and  Kobad  pursued  his  way  alone  towards 
that  section  of  the  city  where  stood  Rustem's 
palace.  He  had  proceeded  along  past  the  statue 
of  Zal,  and  was  just  stepping  upon  a  sort  of  low 
curb  that  was  arranged  upon  the  street-side  to 
protect  pedestrians  from  the  horses,  when  he  saw 
some  half  dozen  dusky  figures  emerge  from  a 
street  that  cornered  directly  before  him.  He 
would  have  turned  back,  but  the  strangers  hailed 
him  and  he  stopped. 

"  Who  are  ye  ?  and  what  do  ye  want?"  asked 
Kobad. 

"  We  are  merely  passing  about  the  city  as  you 
are,"  replied  one  of  the  party,  "  and  we  hailed 
you  because  we  would  know  if  you  had  seen  one 
of  the  king's  enemies  in  your  travels." 

"  I  may  have  seen  many,"  replied  the  old  man, 
placing  his  hand  upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  that 
he  carried  beneath  his  long  robe. 

By  this  time  the  strangers  had  come  more 
closely  up,  and  Kobad  noticed  that  there  were 
ten  of  them  in  all,  and  that  they  were  gathering 
about  him.  He  started  back  towards  the  nearest 
house  and  drew  his  sword. 

"  Keep  your  distance,"  he  said.  "  I  wish  not 
to  harm  you,  but  I  can  allow  no  familiarity.  Do 
you  know  who  I  am  ?" 

"  You  are  one  whom  we  have  been  sent  to 
take — Kobad." 

"  Ay — I  am  ;  and  if  you  know  my  power  you 
will  not  molest  me.  I  use  not  the  weapons  you 
use." 

"  And  yet  your  sword  looks  very  like  ours." 


*  Does  it  V  returned  the  old  man,  holding 
he  weapon  higher  up  in  the  starlight.  "Per- 
laps  it  does.  So  demons  sometimes  look  like 
men.  But  beware  how  you  put  my  weapon  to 
,he  test." 

The  soldiers  hesitated  as  the  astrologer  put 
;his  piece  of  artifice  upon  them.  They  knew 
lim  to  be  a  wonderful  man,  and  perhaps  he 
might  have  some  dark  power  hidden  in  his 
sword.  They  whispered  together,  and  while 
hey  did  so  Kobad  blamed  himself  for  having 
)een  thus  caught  at  a  disadvantage.  Had  he 
thought  of  such  a  meeting  he  might  have  pre 
pared  himself  with  weapons  which  these  men 
could  not  have  overcome.  He  had  at  home  a 
curious  powder — alight,  airy,  imperceptible  mix 
ture — that  would  have  struck  every  man  blind 
who  stood  about  him.  A  small  quantity  of  it, 
cast  off  about  him,  would  float  upon  the  air  in 
all  directions,  and  while  he  kept  his  own  eyes 
tightly  closed,  others  would  not  discover  such 
necessity  until  they  felt  the  sharp  pain  in  their 
optics — and  then  closing  the  lids  would  be  of  no 
use,  for  their  eyes  could  be  of  use  to  them  no 
more.  But  the  old  man  had  not  this  thing  with 
him,  nor  had  he  anything  save  just  such  a  sword 
as  any  man  might  carry. 

Meanwhile  the  soldiers  had  conferred  together, 
and  it  was  resolved  that  they  should  make  the 
attempt  at  least,  to  capture  the  rebel,  for  in  that 
light  they  viewed  him.  Two  of  their  number, 
more  bold  than  the  rest,  drew  off  at  a  short  dis 
tance,  and  gradually  worked  around  behind  the 
old  man,  and  at  the  moment  that  those  in  front 
were  beginning  to  advance,  they  sprang  forward 
and  caught  the  astrologer  by  the  arms,  and  in  a 
moment  more  his  sword  was  wrenched  from 
him. 

"  Now,  old  man,  what  think  you  ?"  cried  one 
of  the  party,  in  an  exultant  tone. 

"  I  think  that  for  the  while  I  am  your  prisoner," 
Kobad  replied,  without  the  least  trepidation. 

"  So  ye  are." 

"  You  will  conduct  me  to  the  king,  I  sup- 
pose  ?" 

"  Don't  know  exactly  how  that'll  be." 

"  How  ?  Am  I  not  arrested  by  order  of  the 
king  ?" 

"  Most  surely  ;  and  you  are  going  to  the  royal 
palace,  too ;  but  I  don't  know  as  the  king  need 
to  see  you." 

A  sudden  fear  shot  through  the  old  man's 
bosom  as  he  heard  these  words.  He  remembered 
how  the  king  had  been  affected  by  his-  presence, 


74 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


and  he  knew,  too,  that  the  king  knew  his  grea 
secret — knew  him  ! 

"  Tell  me  your  orders  1"  he  said,  speaking  ye 
calmly,  but  with  an  effort. 

"  We  take  you  to  the  palace,  and  deliver  you 
there  to  the  master  of  the  prison ;  so  we  mus 
hurry,  for  the  master  may  be  sleepy,  and  hi 
wont  dare  to  sleep  till  he  hears  from  us." 

Now  Kobad  knew  this  master  of  the  prison 
and  he  knew  him  to  be  a  most  ready,  unscrupu 
lous  tool  of  Sohrab.  He  blamed  himself  more 
than  ever  now  for  having  allowed  himself  to 
renture  forth  without  protection.  To  resist  his 
captors  would  be  of  no  avail,  for  they  were  strong 
men,  either  one  of  whom  might  have  overcome 
him  alone. 

"Look  here,"  uttered  one  of  the  soldiers, 
"  this  isn't  exactly  the  thing.  Just  remember 
our  orders.  The  old  chap  wasn't  to  speak,  you 
know." 

"  So  he  wasn't,"  rejoined  the  one  who  seemed 
to  have  the  lead  in  the  affair.  And  as  he  spoke 
he  drew  a  stout  piece  of  sackcloth  from  his 
pocket,  and  proceeded  to  bind  it  over  the  old 
man's  mouth. 

"  How  now  1"  the  prisoner  gasped,  putting  up 
his  hands  to  stop  this  new  movement.  "  Why 
is  this  ?" 

"  So  ordered  the  king.  We  wasn't  to  let  you 
speak  a  word." 

Kobad  resisted  this  movement,  but  it  mattered 
little  to  his  captors,  for  very  easily  did  they  bind 
his  hands  behind  him,  and  then  the  cloth  was 
bound  tightly  over  his  mouth ;  and  when  this 
was  done  they  took  him  by  the  arms  and  turned 
their  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  royal  palace. 

The  astrologer  now  felt  sure  that  the  king 
meditated  some  summary  proceedings  against 
him — that  in  all  probability  he  was  to  be  killed 
without  further  ceremony,  and  the  more  he  pon. 
dered  upon  this  the  more  sure  did  he  feel  of  it. 
Surely  the  king  feared  him,  and  would  give  half 
his  kingdom  to  see  him  dead.  The  inference 
from  this  was  easily  drawn. 

For  sometime  the  party  kept  on  without  meet 
ing  any  human  being.  They  had  passed  Rus- 
tem's  palace,  and  were  crossing  the  great  square 
in  front  of  it,  when  a  single  human  figure  was 
seen  crossing  towards  them.  He  stopped  as 
they  came  close  to  him,  and  was  upon  the  point 
of  turning  one  side  to  let  them  pass,  when  a 
sudden  exclamation  broke  from  his  lips.  It  was 
too  dark  to  recognize  countenances,  even  at  a 
short  distance,  but  the  glittering  whiteness  of  the 


old  astrologer's  beard  was  visible  while  a  face 
could  not  be  seen  at  all.  The  dusky  figure  from 
which  this  exclamation  had  come  moved  nearer 
up  and  peered  with  its  eyes  into  Kobad'g  face. 

"  Kobad  ?"  it  said,  interrogatively. 

Of  course  the  old  man  could  not  reply,  but 
one  of  the  soldiers  immediately  spoke  for  him. 

"  This  is  Kobad.  Now  who  are  you,  and  what 
do  you  want  ?" 

"  I  want  this  old  man,"  said  the  new  comer, 
who  seemed  to  be  a  youth. 

"  If  you  were  the  king  you  might  have  your 
will,  but  seeing  that  you  are  not,  you'll  just 
move  out  of  the  way,  or  we'll  take  you  too." 

"  Ha !  You  take  him  to  the  king,  then  ?  Is 
that  your  wish  1" 

This  last  question  was  addressed  to  the  astrol 
oger,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  the  intruder 
seemed  to  notice  the  gagging  of  the  mouth. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  with  these  men  ?"  the 
youth  asked. 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  quickly  and  ener 
getically. 

"  Here — take  this  piece  of  impudence,  and  let's 
carry  him  along,  too,"  cried  the  leader  of  the 
party,  turning  to  his  followers. 

Half  a  dozen  of  the  soldiers  moved  forward  at 
this  order,  and  they  were  somewhat  surprised  to 
see  the  stranger  start  back  and  draw  his  sword  ; 
but  more  surprise  'awaited  them,  for  on  the  next 
instant  he  was  at  them,  and  as  the  man  nearest 
to  him  fell  to  the  earth,  he  cried  : 

'Leave  this  old  man  to  me.  I  am  FERI- 
DOOT!(tofthe  Lion  Heart!  Give  him  up  and  it 
shall  be  well  with  you,  but  put  me  to  the  task 
and  ye  shall  all  fall !" 

From  the  impulse  of  long  habit,  the  soldiers 
clung  to  their  prisoner,  but  the  moment  they 
heard  that  dreaded  name  they  drew  Kobad  after 
them. 

'  Will  you  make  your  own  deaths  1"  asked 
Feridoon,  raising  his  sword. 

"  Now  let  not  a  boy  overcome  us,"  cried  the 
soldiers'  leader.  "Let  us  show  him  that  our 
words  are  good  and  our  arms  strong.  He  may 
iare  swept  down  men  with  his  club,  but  our 
words  are  as  good — " 

Thus  far  had  the  leader  spoken  when  a  smart 
»low  upon  the  head  from  the  pommel  of  Feri- 
doon's  sword  laid  him  upon  the  ground.  At 
his,  those  who  held  Kobad  let  him  go  and  drew 
heir  swords.  Feridoon  saw  the  movement,  and 
[uick  as  lightning  did  he  sweep  his  sword  about 
lim.  His  own  weapon  was  heavy  and  sharp, 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


75 


and  beneath  its  bio  withe  lighter  blades  of  the 
soldiers  snapped  like  sun-burnt  reeds.  They 
might  as  well  have  tried  to  withstand  a  hurri 
cane,  so  rapid  and  strange  were  the  movements 
of  their  adversary.  In  less  than  three  min 
utes  not  one  of  them  had  a  weapon  in  his  hands, 
and  only  two  of  ten  were  upon  their  feet.  These 
two  hesitated  a  moment  after  their  swords  were 
gone,  and  then  they  started  away  across  the 
square. 

Feridoon  watched  them  until  they  were  lost 
in  the  thick  gloom,  and  then  he  turned  to  the 
old  man.  First  he  threw  off  the  gag  from  his 
mouth,  and  then  cast  off  the  lashing  from  his 
arms.  v 

"  Thank  fortune  !"  he  murmured,  as  he  threw 
the  cord  away,  "  I  came  this  way  most  oppor 
tunely." 

The  old  man  laid  his  hand  upon  the  youth's 
head,  and  with  fervent  tones  he  blessed  him ;  and 
then,  as  they  turned  to  walk  away,  he  asked : 

"  But  how  came  you  out  so  late  from  your 
home  ?"  . 

"Home  ?"  repeated  Feridoon,  in  a  tone  half  of 
sadness  and  half  of  bitterness.  "  I  have  none." 

"  But  the  satrap  ?" 

"  Has  turned  me  from  his  doors." 

"  When  ?" 

"  This  very  night." 

"  And  for  what  ?" 

"  Because  I  would  not  write  a  letter  to  Zil- 
lah,  and  bid  her  turn  her  thoughts  forever  from 
me  and  obey  the  king  in  his  demands." 

"  And  has  Rustem  become  such  a  tool  1"  ut 
tered  the  astrologer,  in  a  tone  of  regret. 

"  He  did  it  through  fear.  The  king  had  prom 
ised  him  to  take  his  life  if  he  did  not  succeed  in 
bringing  me  to  his  purpose.  I  could  not  sacrifice 
my  soul  to  such  a  cause.  I  told  Rustem  I 
would  lay  down  my  life  for  him,  but  I  would  not 
sell  my  very  heart — my  every  principle  of  honor 
— to  the  bidding  ©f  such  villany.  Yet  I  am  sor 
ry  that  Rustem  is  so  situated." 

"  O,  you  need  not  fear  for  him.  The  king 
will  not  afford  to  take  the  satrap's  life.  If  he 
made  such  a  threat,  it  was  only  to  spur  him  up 
to  the  work  of  serving  him." 

"  Hark  !"  uttered  the  youth,  whose  quick  ear 
had  caught  a  sound  that  Kobad  could  not  yet 
hear.  "  There  are  footsteps  coming  this  way, 
and  quite  a  number,  too." 

"  Mayhap  it  is  another  party  in  search  of  me," 
said  the  old  man,  stopping  to  listen.  "  I  heard 
those  who  held  me  when  you  came,  speak  of 


other  parties  which  were  out  upon  the  search, 
and  this  is  surely  one  of  them.  Let  us  conceal 
ourselves  somewhere." 

Feridoon  had  no  desire  to  seek  a  conflict,  so 
he  looked  quickly  about  him  for  a  place  of 
concealment.  He  remembered  a  place  he  had 
just  passed,  and  upon  going  back  he  found  a 
narrow  gateway  with  an  arched  top,  the  gate 
of  which  was  partly  open,  swinging  inward. 
They  both  went  in  and  closed  the  gate,  and 
here  they  remained.  The  coming  men  soon 
reached  the  spot,  passing  close  to  the  gate,  and 
from  their  remarks  it  was  evident  that  Kobad's 
suspicions  were  correct.  They  did  not  stop  at 
the  gate,  however,  and  ere  long,  our  two  friends 
resumed  their  way. 

They  spoke  but  little,  for  both  seemed  to  have 
plenty  of  thought  that  the  circumstances  had 
called  up.  It  was  very  quickly  and  readily  ar 
ranged  that  Feridoon  should  remain  with  the  as 
trologer  for  the  present,  and  hence  the  latter 
led  the  way.  He  walked  more  quickly  than  one 
of  his  advanced  age  could  generally  do,  and 
at  the  end  of  half  an  hour  he  entered  a  narrow, 
dark  lane,  near  the  eastern  cliffs,  where  the  dwell 
ings  were  sparse  and  poor.  At  the  door  of  one 
of  these  he  stopped  and  knocked,  and  ere  many 
moments  had  elapsed  a  voice  asked,  from  with 
in,  who  was  there.  Kobad  answered,  and  soon 
afterwards  the  door  was  opened  by  a  black  ser 
vant,  who  held  a  lamp  in  his  hand.  This  latter 
individual  led  the  way  to  the  back  part  of  the 
building,  where  our  hero  found  a  room  not  only 
well  furnished,  but  displaying  some  signs  of 
wealth.  The  slave  disappeared  and  the  old 
man  and  the  youth  sat  down  together. 

"  One  question  I  must  ask,"  said  Feridoon, 
whose  feelings  were  now  centered  upon  one 
point.  "  Is  Zillah  safe  ?" 

"  Just  as  safe  as  though  she  were  here,"  con 
fidently  returned  Kobad. 

"  But  she  is  within  the  power  of  the  king,  and 
you  know  what  base  passions  move  him." 

"I  know  all  that,  but  Zillah  is  not  in  his 
power,  even  though  he  may  think  she  is.  There 
is  one  ever  near  her  who  will  watch  over  and 
protect  her." 

Feridoon  looked  puzzled.  The  astrologer  no 
ticed  the  look  and  quickly  added  : 

"It  is  not  an  imaginary  personage  of  whom  I 
speak,  but  I  have  been  to  the  bedside  of  Zillah, 
and  I  know  there  is  one  there  who  will  easily 
and  promptly  stop  any  wickedness  the  king  may 
attempt.  So  make  yourself  easy  on  that  score. 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER, 


As  soon  as  the  maiden  is  perfectly  recovered,  I 
can  remove  her  from  the  palace  without  trou 
ble;  but  nowhere  else  can  she  receive  better 
medical  treatment  than  there." 

"  But  she  is  not  very  sick  ?w 

"  No.  Her  constitution  will  easily  throw  off 
the  malady.  In  a  very  few  days,  at  the  farthest, 
she  will  be  as  well  as  ever." 

The  youth  seemed  satisfied  with  this,  and  he 
spoke  to  that  effect.  There  were  many  things 
he  would  have  liked  to  know — many  things  that 
seemed  strange  and  marvellous  to  him,  but  (he 
let  them  pass,  having  become  assured  that  Ko- 
bad  liked  not  to  be  questioned  on  that  point. 

It  was  now  sometime  past  midnight,  and  hav 
ing  called  the  black  slave  into  the  room,  the  as 
trologer  bade  him  conduct  Peridoon  to  a  place 
of  rest.  The  youth  followed  his  sable  guide  up 
a  flight  of  narrow,  wooden  stairs,  then  down 
another  flight  into  a  sort  of  hall,  where  a  door 
opened  into  a  back  yard.  Our  hero  saw  a  high 
wall  that  enclosed  this  yard,  and  wondered  ex 
ceedingly  when  he  saw  his  guide  step  out  upon 
the  dew-wet  pavement ;  but  he  followed  without 


asking  any  questions.  TMft  next  movement  was 
more  strange  still,  for  the  slave  proceeded  di 
rectly  to  the  brick  wall,  and  having  stooped 
down  and  removed  a  brick  from  its  resting- 
place  and  moved  some  secret  spring  which  was 
hidden  within  the  aperture  thus  revealed,  he 
raised  up  a  slab  of  stone  from  the  pavement, 
and  then  motioned  the  young  man  to  go  down. 

"  Fear  not,"  said  a  voice ;  and,  on  turning, 
our  hero  found  Kobad  standing  by  his  side. 
"  "We  have  cause  for  care,  you  know.  Go  down 
and  I  shaft  quickly  follow." 

Thus  bidden,  Feridoon  moved  to  the  place  and 
stepped  upon  a  ladder  that  he  found  there,  and 
having  descended  he  waited  at  the  foot  for  the 
old  man,  who  soon  came  with  the  lamp.  After 
passing  along  a  narrow  passage  the  youth  found 
himself  in  a  very  neat  and  comfortable  apart 
ment,  in  which  were  two  beds.  The  old  man 
pointed  him  to  the  one  that  he  might  occupy, 
and  without  further  remark  than  to  wonder  at 
the  ingenuity  displayed  in  the  concealing  of  the 
place,  he  undressed  himself,  and  soon  after 
wards  he  had  begun  to  dreaiiL 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


FKIENDS,   AND   HOW   THEY   WORKED. 


ON  the  morning  following  these  events,  the 
king  was  early  astir,  and  when  he  reached  the 
apartment  where  he  usually  gave  audience  to  his 
officers  and  heard  the  reports  of  the  night,  he 
found  some  half  dozen  of  his  officials  there,  and 
he  noticed  at  once  that  they  wore  troubled  coun 
tenances.  At  first  he  felt  misgivings,  for  of  late 
he  had  become  used  to  disasters  and  disappoint 
ments.  His  first  question  was  of  the  old  as 
trologer — to  know  if  he  had  been  captured.  Of 
course  he  received  a  negative  answer  to  this 
question,  but  he  saw  that  that  was  not  all,  and 
he  asked  what  more.  After  some  hesitation  and 
an  interchange  of  quick,  furtive  glances  among 
the  officers,  one  of  them  related  to  the  monarch 
the  circumstance  of  there  having  been  found 
eight  men  in  the  great  square  near  Rustem's 
palace — that  six  of  them  were  dead  and  two  of 
them  so  injured  that  they  had  but  just  recov 
ered  their  speech. 

Sohrab  started  first  forward  with  his  hands 
extended,  and  then  he  started  back  again.  He 
trembled  violently,  and  for  some  seconds  tried  to 
speak  without  being  able  to  articulate.  But  at 
length  he  managed  to  give  the  order  for  having 
those  two  men  sent  up  to  him,  and  ere  long  af 
terwards  they  made  their  appearance,  one  of  them 
limping  along  with  much  difficulty  and  the  other 
brought  in  a  chair  borne  upon  two  spears. 


"  Now,"  whispered  the  king,  "  what  is  it  V 

The  soldier  who  had  walked  up  told  the  story. 
He  told  how  his  party  had  found  the  old  astrol 
oger,  and  how  they  had  gagged  and  bound  him 
and  started  to  bring  him  to  the  palace.  Then  he 
told  of  the  coming  of  Feridoon,  and  of  the  part 
that  young  man  had  acted.  The  poor  fellow  up 
on  the  chair  not  only  corroborated  the  statement, 
but  he  gave  some  further  light  by  repeating 
the  language  used  by  Feridoon. 

"  But  here  are  only  eight  of  your  party  ac 
counted  for,"  said  the  king,  showing  by  his  tone 
and  manner  that  he  hardly  knew  what  he  said. 

"  The  other  two  must  have  fled,"  returned 
one  of  the  officers,  "  probably  fearing  your  maj 
esty's  wrath." 

But  his  majesty  paid  no  attention  to  this  an 
swer.  He  had  walked  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  apartment,  where  he  remained,  with  his  back 
turned  to  his  officers,  for  some  minutes.  When 
he  returned,  his  face  was  very  pale  and  rigid  as 
marble.  His  teeth  were  set  and  his  hamds 
clutched  tightly  together.  He  gazed  around  up 
on  his  subjects  some  moments,  and  When  he 
spoke  his  voice  was  firm  and  strong,  though  a 
close  observer  might  have  seen  from  the  marks 
upon  his  brow  that  he  suffered  much  pain. 

"  Go  and  set  every  officer  of  my  guard  upon 
the  watch,"  he  said.  "  Of  the  five  thousand 


78 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


soldiers  who  are  quartered  here,  take  every  one 
if  necessary,  and  spread  them  through  the  city. 
Let  every  street,  square  and  every  nook,  of 
whatever  kind,  be  searched  and  watched.  I 
would  have  that  old  man,  and  that  young  one, 
too,  brought  before  me.  Let  it  be  alive,  if  you 
can,  but  dead  if  it  must  be.  And  be  ye  sure, 
also,  that  their  mouths  be  stopped.  Let  it  ap 
pear  that  either  of  them  have  spoken  after  their 
capture  and  those  who  do  the  neglect  shall  sure 
ly  die.  Can  you  remember  this  ?" 

The  officers  assured  their  royal  master  that 
his  commands  should  be  obeyed,  and  then  they 
set  off  at  once  to  see  the  thing  done,  and  the 
two  soldiers  were  conducted  back  to  the  place 
from  whence  they  had  been  taken,  considering 
themselves  fortunate  in  having  escaped  alive. 
They  did  not  know  that  their  lives,  that  were 
of  such  consequence  to  them,  gave  their  king 
no  more  weight  of  thought  than  two  flies.  He 
happened  to  forget  them  in  the  press  of  more 
important  business. 

In  one  hour  from  that  time,  the  citizens  were 
not  a  little  astonished  at  seeing  great  numbers 
of  soldiers  spreading  themselves  over  the  city. 
Into  every  street  and  place  they  entered,  and 
little  lanes  that  had  never  before  received  such 
marked  distinction,  were  now  guarded  by  live 
soldiers.  What  it  meant  people  could  not  ima 
gine,  but  they  knew  something  strange  must 
have  happened,  though  they  could  not  even  have 
dreamed  of  so  strange  a  thing  as  the  sending 
out  of  all  these  soldiers  after  two  men — one  of 
them  a  man  far  gone  on  the  down-hill  of  life, 
and  the  other  a  youth  just  at  the  foot  of  life's 
ladder. 

Meanwhile  the  king  remained  in  the  apart 
ment  where  we  left  him.  He  was  all  alone,  not 
even  one  of  his  eunuchs  being  with  him,  and 
most  of  the  time  he  had  been  walking  up  and 
down  the  paved  floor.  But  he  had  stopped  now, 
and  his  hands  were  clasped  upon  his  brow,  and 
thus  leaned  against  one  of  the  marble  pillars. 
At  length  he  started  back,  and  as  he  brought 
his  hands  together  with  an  energetic  movement, 
he  said : 

"  And  all  this  is  about  a  girl — " 

No,  no,  king,  it  is  not  all  about  a  girl.  Had 
you  never  seen  that  girl,  the  same  cloud  that 
now  hangs  over  you  would  have  opened  its 
storm  upon  your  head. 

"  And  I  must  fret  and  rave  just  for  that  which 
is  all  my  right  if  I  please.  By  my  life,  the 
pretty  piece  of  trouble  is  mine,  and  this  very 


night  shall  she  become  my  wife.  She  is  well, 
now.  I  saw  her  up  this  morning,  and  the  rose 
is  back  on  her  cheek.  I  need  not  fear  that  old — " 

The  king  stopped  here,  and  the  ashy  pallor 
once  more  came  to  his  face ;  but  he  soon  over 
came  the  fear,  and  just  as  he  would  have  gone 
into  another  soliloquy,  one  of  his  eunuchs  en 
tered  his  presence  and  asked  him  if  he  would 
give  audience  that  day,  at  the  same  time  in 
forming  him  that  many  people  had  assembled  in 
the  audience  chamber. 

Sohrab  bade  the  slave  tell  his  officers  that  he 
would  be  with  them  soon.  Then  he  went  and 
swallowed  a  bowl  of  wine,  and  after  this  he  went 
down  to  the  great  hall  where  be  was  wont  to 
give  his  judgment  on  all  cases  his  subjects 
chose  to  present.  Plbple  saw  that  something 
ailed  the  king,  and  several  of  the  citizens  with 
drew  without  presenting  their  cases,  for  they 
saw  that  he  rendered  his  judgments  most  wild 
ly,  and  sometimes  without  any  possible  reference 
to  the  case  in  hand. 

One  old  man,  who  had  three  slaTes,  made 
complaint  against  a  merchant  for  having  seized 
one  of  his  slaves  for  trespass,  and  put  said  slave 
to  hard  work  in  his  own  shop.  The  complain 
ant  was  willing,  he  said,  to  pay  whatever  money 
might  be  due  for  the  trespass,  but  he  wanted  his 
slave.  The  king  heard  the  case,  and  he  decided 
that  all  three  of  the  slaves  should  be  given  over 
to  the  merchant. 

It  so  happened  that  the  merchant  had  only 
kept  the  one  slave  out  of  a  whim,  and  when  he 
got  out  of  the  audience  chamber,  he  laughed 
heartily  at  the  strange  ruling  of  the  king,  but  at 
the  same  time  assured  the  old  man  he  should 
not  take  the  slaves. 

Sohrab  was  so  fairly  out  of  his  head  that  every 
one  noticed  it,  and  by  the  time  he  had  rendered 
judgment  in  a  dozen  cases  those  who  dared  stole 
away,  and  some  of  the  others  presented  false 
statements,  plaintiff  and  defendant  agreeing 
thereto. 

After  all  the  business  was  disposed  of  which 
came  up,  the  king  entered  into  a  private  busi 
ness  with  some  of  his  own  officers,  so  that  he 
did  not  get  away  from  the  great  hall  till  near 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  He  then  went  to 
his  dinner,  and  after  having  taken  a  few  turns  in 
his  garden,  he  went  to  see  Zillah. 

The  maiden  was  sitting  by  the  open  window 
when  the  king  entered,  and  she  did  seem  about 
well  of  her  sickness.  It  had  been  but  a  slight 
attack  of  fever,  which  had  yielded  at  once  to 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


79 


skilful  treatment ;  and  the  constitution  which  no 
irregularity  of  life  had  ever  shattered,  arose 
quickly  above  the  malady.  Sohrab  entered  the 
room  and  motioned  the  attendant  away,  and  in 
a  moment  more  the  monarch  and  the  maiden 
were  left  alone. 

"  Now,  sweet  Zillah,"  commenced  the  royal 
suitor,  "  the  time  draws  nigh  for  the  bliss  of 
our  loves.  You  will  soon  be  mine.  Since  yes 
terday  you  have  recovered  wonderfully,  and  it 
almost  seems  a  special  work  of  God  in  my  favor. 
Are  you  not  nearly  recovered  ?" 

Zillah  could  not  deny  it,  for  she  felt  that  she 
was  physically  well. 

"  I  am  not  so  weak,  sire,  as  I  have  been, 
and  I  think  that  health  has  been  once  more  re 
stored  to  me." 

"  And  do  you  not  feel  thankful  ?" 

"  I  do,  most  surely." 

"  But  you  cannot  feel  so  joyful  as  I  do,  for 
the  hour  that  gives  you  health  gives  to  me  the 
most  beautiful  wife  on  earth." 

As  the  king  thus  spoke,  he  placed  his  arm 
about  the  maiden's  neck,  and  would  have  kissed 
her,  .but  he  saw  that  she  had  turned  deadly  pale, 
and  he  started  back. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  he  quickly  asked. 

"  O,  spare  me !  spare  me  !" 

"  Spare  you  «    And  from  what  ?" 

"  From  the  dreadful  fate  you  have  mentioned." 

"  Do  you  mean  the  marriage  with  me  V 

"  Yes,  sire,"  faintly  uttered  Zillah.  She  had 
made  a  mistake  in  her  choice  of  words,  but  she 
was  too  much  moved  to  See  it. 

"  And  do  you  call  becoming  my  wife  a  dread 
ful  fate  ?"  hissed  the  king,  in  rank  madness. 

"Alas,  sire,"  uttered  the  poor  girl,  hardly 
knowing  what  she  said,  "  how  can  I  look  upon 
the  crushing  of  my  heart  without  dread  ?" 

"  And  is  it  thus  you  meet  my  love  ?  Is  it 
thus  you  will  receive  the  proffered  affection  of 
your  king  ?  Speak  to  me,  girl,  and  tell  me  if 
you  mean  thus  to  treat  me." 

"  O,  spare  me  !  Let  me  rest  now !  Come  to 
me—" 

"  When  ?" 

"  Never !  never ! — O,  never  !" 

And  Zillah,  as  she  thus  gasped,  bowed  her 
head  and  groaned  aloud.  She  was  frantic,  and 
knew  not  how  or  what  to  speak.  Her  mighty 
love  for  one  whom  she  believed  to  be  noble, 
generous,  virtuous  and  pure,  was  stout  within 
her,  and  she  could  not  give  it  up.  But  she 
could  not  help  fearing  the  king,  for  she  read  in 


every  line  of  his  features  the  passion  that  raged 
within  him.  Sohrab  gazed  upon  her  awhile 
after  she  had  given  utterance  to  that  last  inco 
herent  sentence,  and  he  at  first  seemed  almost 
bewildered  by  the  words,  the  tone  and  the  man 
ner  ;  but  soon  he  found  his  tongue,  and  in  a 
thrilling  whisper,  he  said  : 

"  I  see  that  words  will  be  of  no  more  avail. 
This  very  night  you  shall  be  my  wife !  Now 
mark  me.  This  very  night !" 

"  For  the  love  of  God  !"  shrieked  Zillah,  sink- 
ing  down  upon  her  knees,  and  raising  her  clasped 
hands  towards  the  king,  "  spare  me !  spare  me  ! 
I  will  be  your  slave — your  meanest  slave.  I 
will  shelter  with  the  Ethiop,  and  drudge  with 
the  very  beasts — but  0,  spare  my  love !  break 
not  my  heart !  tear  not  my  soul  in  pieces  !" 

The  king  gazed  down  upon  the  imploring 
maiden,  and  a  wicked  smile  worked  upon  his 
features. 

"  Girl,"  he  said,  and  his  tone  was  cold  and 
decided,  "  as  sure  as  we  both  live,  you  shall  be 
my  wife  this  night !  I  have  no  more  to  say  now. 
Your  own  sense  will  tell  how  best  to  prepare 
for  my  coming." 

So  the  king  spoke,  and  then  he  turned  from 
the  room.  Zillah  arose  to  her  feet  and  threw 
herself  upon  a  couch,  but  soon  she  felt  a  hand 
upon  her  head,  and  she  looked  up.  It  was  her 
attendant  who  was  with  her,  an  old  female  slave 
who  had  long  held  the  station  of  nurse  to  the 
royal  wives. 

"  What  is  it  1"  she  asked,  raising  the  unhappy 
girl  to  a  sitting  posture. 

"  Alas,  Thais,  I  am  doomed !"  the  frantic 
maiden  murmured. 

"  Doomed  ?"  repeated  Thais.     "  But  how  V 

Zillah  repeated  all  that  the  king  had  said. 

"  To-night  ?"  muttered  the  old  nurse,  to  her 
self.  "  By  my  life,  but  Sohrab  hastens  the  mat 
ter  with  a  haste  most  unseemly." 

"  And  my  last  of  earthly  joy  is  gone  from  me 
forever  !  No  more  shall  the  sun  rise  to  give  me 
blessing  in  his  golden  beams,  no  more  shall  the 
soft  zephyr  come  to  impart  freshness  to  my 
cheek,  nor  can  the  tender  breath  of  friendship, 
even,  be  a  source  of  joy  to  me  more !" 

"Be  not  too  sure,"  answered  Thais,  in  a 
matter-of-fact  sort  of  way.  "  The  king  has  for 
gotten  himself.  Be  sure  you  shall  see  no  more 
of  him  to-night." 

Zillah  started  up  and  caught  the  old  woman 
by  the  arm,  and  gazed  half  wildly  into  her  face. 

"  What  mean  you  "?"  she  gasped. 


80 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


"  Just  what  I  say.  The  king  shall  not  trou 
ble  you  to-night." 

"  O,  if  I  could  he  sure  of  this  !" 

"  I  swear  it." 

"  And  you  will  save  me  V 

"  Yes." 

The  maiden  threw  her  white  arms  about  the 
nurse's  neck,  but  Thais  soon  shook  them  off,  say 
ing,  as  she  did  so  : 

"  I  must  away  now  and  attend  to  this  matter. 
Fear  not,  Zillah,  for  as  I  live,  the  king  shall  not 
harm  you." 

Thais  went  to  a  little  cot  on  which  she  slept, 
and  from  beneath  the  bedding  she  drew  a  small 
paper  parcel,  which  she  hid  in  her  bosom,  and 
then  having  once  more  bade  the  girl  be  of  good 
heart,  she  left  the  room.  She  traversed  many 
passages  and  corridors,  and  at  length  she  reached 
that  part  of  the  palace  where  the  king's  own 
apartments  were  situated.  She  looked  into  sev 
eral  of  them,  but  she  found  not  the  one  she 
sought,  and  she  sat  down  to  await  his  coming. 
She  waited  there  full  fifteen  minutes,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time  some  one  approached.  She 
moved  out  of  the  way,  but  not  far,  for  she  soon 
saw  that  he  whom  she  sought  was  he  that  now 
came.  It  was  one  of  the  king's  eunuchs,  Bah- 
boul,  whom  we  have  already  seen  in  confidence 
with  the  monarch.  Thais  called  to  him  as  he 
came  near,  and  without  asking  any  question  he 
followed  her  until  they  came  to  a  secluded 
place. 

"  Now,  Bahboul,"  spoke  the  nurse,  hurriedly 
but  distinctly,  "  the  king  has  planned  to  make 
Ziliah  his  wife  this  night." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?"  asked  the  eunuch,  somewhat 
nervously. 


"  Most  sure.  He  has  sworn  it  with  a  solemn 
oath." 

"  Then  our  course  is  clear.  Have  you  got  the 
powder  ?" 

"Yes.  Here  it  is.  Now  remember — fix  it  so 
that  he  shall  be  sure  to  drink  it." 

"  I  will  do  my  part." 

That  was  all  that  was  necessary  in  that  quar 
ter,  and  Thais  returned  to  the  chamber  of  her 
charge. 

Bahboul  went  at  once  to  the  apartment  where 
the  king  always  supped,  and  there  he  waited  the 
coming  of  his  master,  for  the  time  of  his  usual 
coming  was  near  at  hand.  Just  at  dusk  Soh- 
rab  made  his  appearance,  and  ordered  his  wine 
immediately. 

He  always  did  this,  and  for  this  moment  had 
Bahboul  waited.  The  eunuch  hastened  to  obey 
the  order,  and  with  a  dexterous  movement  he 
emptied  a  portion  of  the  powder  into  the  bowl. 
The  king  took  it  and  drank ;  then  he  ate  some 
slight  quantity  of  food  and  called  for  his  bowl 
again.  After  this  he  arose  and  went  into  another 
apartment.  In  an  hour  more  he  would  have 
gone  to  claim  the  sweet  Zillah,  but  a  strange 
drowsiness  had  come  over  him,  and  he  thought 
he  would  take  a  short  nap,  bidding  his  slaves 
awaken  him  in  just  one  hour.  At  the  end  of 
the  time  they  tried  to  obey  him,  but  they  could 
not  awaken  him.  They  shook  and  rolled  and 
punched,  and  lifted  him  up  and  let  him  fall,  but 
all  to  no  purpose.  The  sleep  would  not  let  go 
its  hold  upon  him,  and  at  length  they  gave  it  up 
in  despair. 

So  that  night  the  maiden  passed  in  peace, 
while  the  king  slept  on,  all  unconscious  of  what 
strange  scenes  were  awaiting  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII, 


CLOUDS  AKD   LIGHT. 


the  king  arose  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
looked  about  him.  He  found  the  sun  shining  ! 
into  the  apartment,  and  he  thought  he  must 
have  made  some  mistake  when  he  laid  down. 
He  thought  it  was  near  sunset  then.  It  was 
some  minutes  before  he  noticed  that  the  stin  was 
in  the  eastern  heavens,  but  when  he  did  notice  it, 
he  started  forward  and  grasped  one  of  his  trem 
bling  eunuchs  by  the  arm. 

"  Villain !  dog  !"  he  gasped.  "  What  does 
this  mean  1" 

The  terrified  slave  gasped  for  breathy  and  after 
a  while  he  related  what  had  occurred  the  previous 
night*  He  told  how  they  had  tried  to  wake  him 
<— how  they  had  done  all  they  dared  do,  without 
effect. 

This  set  the  king  pondering  for  a  moment,  and 
then  he  knew  that  he  had  been  drugged  in  some 
way.  A  few  moments  more  of  thought  and  he 
knew  ^hat  he  must  have  had  it  in  his  wine. 
Thefl  he  turned  upon  his  slaves,  and  with  a  harsh 
oath  his  hand  leaped  for  his  s«word,  but  he  could 
hot  find  it. 

"  Slates !"  he  roared,  "  where  are  my  wea 
pons  ?" 

"Bahboul  took  them  from  you  while  yoti 
slept,  sire.  He  said  they  would  prevent  your 
testing  easy/' 


"  Ha !  And  was't  not  Bahbotil  who  gate  Jnd 
my  wine  last  night  ?" 

"Yes,  sire." 

"  He  dies !     Go  send  him  hither." 

Some  of  the  slaves  withdrew,  but  they  return* 
ed  without  finding  Bahbotil.  The  king  now  lite^ 
tally  frothed  at  the  mouth  with  rage,  and,  for  a 
while,  he  was  totally  unable  to  speak ;  but  at 
length  he  managed  to  mutter,  in  a  hot,  hissing 
tone : 

"  'Tis  a  plot !  I  see !  But  now  they  shall  be 
overtaken  in  their  work  !  This  very  hotir-Hhia 
very  minute--— I  go  to  Zillah— ' -and  henceforth  she 
is  mine !  And  then  they  shall  all  be  mine-1— and 
they  shall  die.  But  what  of  the  astrologer  7 
Has  he  been  captured  ?" 

"  He  had  not,  an  hour  since,  sire." 

"  Be  sure  that  I  know  when  he  is  taken.  Re 
main  you  here.  I  go  to  the  lady  Zillah." 

The  king  hastened  out  of  the  room  as  he  thuss 
spoke,  afid  with  quick  strides  he  made  towards 
the  damsel's  apartments.  He  found  her  already 
dressed,  but  he  did  not  wonder  at  this,  for  the 
sun  was  more  plain  here,  and  he  saw  that  it  had 
been  up  many  hours. 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  after  he  had  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  "  you  escaped  me  last  night.  Did 
you  know  I  should  net  come  V 


82 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


"  I  prayed  to  God  that  you  might  not,"  Zillah 
replied,  in  a  trembling  tone. 

"  You  did,  eh  ?  But  let  me  assure  you  'twas 
not  God  who  answered  your  prayer.  There 
were  human  hands  in  that  work.  Did  you  know 
it?" 

"  I  know  nothing,  sire,  save  that  you  did  not 
come." 

"  I  believe  you  speak  falsely,"  muttered  Soh- 
rab,  eyeing  the  maiden  keenly.  "  But  it  wont 
save  you,  for  now  I  have  come  to  fulfil  my 
pledge.  Are  you  ready  V 

Ziilah  did  not  speak,  for  she  knew  not  what 
to  say.  She  cast  her  eye  upon  Thais,  but  this 
latter  personage  was  busily  engaged  in  pulling  a 
flower  in  pieces  which  she  had  plucked  from  a 
vine  that  grew  up  by  the  window.  The  king  no 
ticed  the  direction  of  her  glance,  and  he  turned 
his  own  attention  for  a  moment  upon  the  nurse. 

"  Slave !"  he  cried  ;  "  you  know  something  of 
this  affair." 

"  Me,  sire  ?"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  look 
ing  up  with  well  feigned  wonder  upon  her  face. 

"  Yes — you.     You  know  something  of  this." 

"  I  only  know  that  I  waited  here  until  long 
after  midnight,  to  deliver  my  charge  into  your 
handa,  and  that  you  did  not  come." 

The  monarch  could  read  nothing  but  open 
truth  upon  the  face  of  the  nurse,  and  ho  thought 
she  might  be  guiltless.  But  one  thing  troubled 
him,  or  perplexed  him,  at  least.  Zillah  did  not 
seem  so  frightened  as  she  did  before,  and  he 
thought  she  regarded  him  with  a  sort  of  cool  in 
difference.  Could  the  king  have  seen  what  she 
had  seen,  he  would  not  have  wondered  at  this, 
for  behind  the  heavy  arras  that  covered  the  en 
trance  to  a  small  closet,  stood  a  stout  black  form, 
armed  with  a  sharp  sword.  That  form  was 
Bahboul,  and  the  sword  was  for  the  king  ere 
harm  should  come  to  the  maiden. 

But  Bahboul  was  not  destined  to  slay  his  royal 
master,  nor  was  Zillah  destined  to  see  the  bloody 
work  done,  for  just  as  the  king  was  moving  to 
wards  her,  two  eunuchs  unceremoniously  entered 
the  place. 

"  How  now,  slaves  ?"  cried  Sohrab,  in  quick, 
passionate  tones.  "  Why  come  ye  here  ?" 

"  Sire,"  spoke  one  of  them,  while  they  both 
knelt,  "  the  audience  chamber  is  crowded,  and 
many  people  demand  the  royal  presence." 

'•'  Then  go  bid  them  wait  our  pleasure." 

"  But,  sire,  your  ministers  demand  that  you 
shall  come.  It  is  now  one  whole  hour  past  the 
time." 


"  And  let  it  be  an  hundred  hours.  The  king 
is  not  tied  by  his  subjects." 

"  And  shall  we  tell  them  to  wait  ?" 

"  Yes.  Tell  them  I  have  business  of  more 
importance." 

"  And  what  shall  be  done  with  the  prisoners  ?" 

"  Prisoners  ?" 

"Yes,  sire.  The  old  astrologer  and  Feridoon." 

"  Ha  !  Now,  by  the  gods,  ye  move  me.  Go 
tell  the  minister  I'll  be  there  quickly." 

The  eunuchs  withdrew,  and  the  king  turned  to 
Zillah. 

"  Be  sure,"  he  said,  "  that  I  shall  return  very 
soon.  I  shall  quickly  shake  this  business  from 
my  hands/ and  then  you'll  be  fully  in  my  power. 
When  I  do  return  I  shall  be  yours  alone  to  love." 

Shortly  afterwards  Sohrab  entered  the  great 
audience  hall  attended  by  his  eunuchs  and  four 
of  his  chief  household  officers.  With  a  quick 
step  he  ascended  the  royal  throne  and  seized  his 
sceptre.  He  stepped  thus  quickly,  that  his  trem- 
ulousness  might  not  be  seen.  He  gazed  about 
him,  and  amid  the  throng  he  saw  the  tall,  vene 
rable  form  of  Kobad,  and  next  to  him  stood  the 
firmly  knit  person  of  the  Lion  Heart. 

"  How  now  ?"  the  monarch  cried,  in  a  passion. 
"'Twas  my  order  that  these  rebels  should  be 
gagged.  Who  has  dared  to  disobey  me?" 

"  Sire,"  spoke  an  old  officer,  named  Ban, 
"  Saffo,  Lonza  and  myself  brought  the  prisoners 
hither,  and  we  knew  nothing  of  this  order." 

The  king  gazed  upon  the  three  men  thus  de 
signated,  and  he  liked  not  the  looks  they  gave 
him.  They  were  the  same  three  whom  we  saw 
with  Kobad  in  the  cave. 

"  Slaves,  stand  before  me  \" 

At  this  order,  twelve  stout,  black  slaves  moved 
out  in  front  of  the  throne. 

"  Now  listen  to  my  order,  and  upon  your  lives 
let  it  be  quickly  obeyed.  Bind  those  two  men 
and  take  them  hence.  Take  them  to  the  dungeon 
wjiere  the  youth  was  once  before." 

The  slaves  bowed,  and  then  turned  to  the  spot 
where  the  accused  men  stood. 

"  Hold  one  moment !"  spoke  Kobad.  "  I  must 
speak  ere  I  am  condemned."  « 

"  Not  a  word  !  Not  a  word  !"  shonted  the  king. 
"Off  with  him!" 

"  Now,  by  the  justice  of  heaven  and  the  laws 
of  Persia,  I  demand  to  speak !"  uttered  the  old 
man,  stepping  upon  the  back  of  one  of  the  mar 
ble  lions,  and  gazing  around  upon  the  assembled 
multitude. 

The  people  had  flocked  hither  now  because 


THE  KING  AND   COBBLER. 


they  knew  the  astrologer  and  Feridoon  were  cap 
tured,  and  a  murmur,  loud  and  deep,  arose  in 
the  audience  chamber. 

"  Let  him  speak  !"  were  the  words  that  greeted 
the  ears  of  the  king. 

"By  the  gods  of  my  country,  he  shall  not 
speak  !"  roared  the  king.  "  Off  with  him,  I  say. 
Slaves,  do  my  bidding,  or  you  die  on  the  spot ! 
Call  in  the  soldiers,  and  bid  them  clear  the  place. 
We'll  see  who  is  king  in  Persia  \" 

"  Sire,"  spoke  Kanah,  in  a  low  tone,  "  you 
had  better  let  him  speak." 

"  What !  and  do  you,  too,  turn  against  me  1" 
uttered  Sohrab,  gazing  angrijj-  into  the  face  of 
his  old  counsellor.  , 

"  I  speak  for  you,  sire.  Let  him  speak.  It 
is  but  simple  justice,  and  the  people  will  most 
surely  demand  it." 

As  Kanah  thus  spoke  he  stepped  back  from 
the  throne,  and  as  the  king  followed  him  with  his 
eyes  he  saw  that  all  his  officers  remained  passive 
and  silent.  No — not  wholly  silent,  for  they  whis 
pered  together  with  anxious,  nervous  looks. 

Meanwhile,  both  Kobad  and  Feridoon  moved 
towards  the  throne,  and  just  as  the  king  was 
upon  the  point  of  ordering  his  slaves  to  seize 
them,  he  noticed  that  one  of  his  old  generals,  at 
the  head  of  a  hundred  stout  soldiers,  was  follow 
ing  them  up. 

"  Now  Foaz,"  the  monarch  uttered,  address 
ing  the  general,  "  what  means  this  ?  Have  ye 
come  to  help  me  V 

"  I  have  come  to  aid  justice,  sire,"  returned 
the  old  warrior ;  "  the  prisoner  must  be  heard, 
for  he  has  matters  of  importance  to  communi 
cate." 

The  king  sprang  to  his  feet  and  clapped  his 
hand  upon  his  hip,  but  his  sword-hilt  was  not 
there.  Then  he  sank  back  upon  his  throne,  and 
his  face  turned  deadly  pale — so  pale  that  all  the 
blood  settled  back  into  his  coward  heart,  and 
left  him  too  weak  to  stand. 

"  Kobad,"  said  the  general,  "  you  may  speak 
now ;  and,"  he  added,  turning  his  eyes  upon  the 
royal  slaves,  "  the  first  man  who  dares  to  inter 
rupt  you  dies." 

"  My  countrymen — " 

"  He  is  an  Arabian  !"  gasped  the  king. 

"I  am  a  Persian  !"  spoke  Kobad,  nobly  and 
clearly,  "  and  to  my  noble  countrymen  would  I 
speak.  Do  ye  not  all  know  that  Persia  is  not 
now  what  she  has  been  ?  Her  glory  is  fading, 
and  the  energies  of  the  people  are  going  out. 
Ere  long  some  envious  prince  will  make  war 


upon  us,  and  we  are  lost,  if  we  have  no  king !" 

Sohrab  started  up  from  his  throne,  but  he  did 
not  speak. 

"  And  whence  comes  all  this  ?"  the  old  man 
continued.  "Is  it  not  a  judgment  of  an  offend 
ed  God  for  the  crimes  of  him  who  calls  himself 
king  ?  Listen  to  me.  You  all  remember  the 
noble  Gushtasp — you  who  are  old  enough.  Did 
you  not  love  him  V 

A  low  murmur  broke  from  the  multitude,  and 
it  grew  louder  and  deeper,  and  the  people  all 
said  yes. 

"  But  who  shall  tell  the  deep  crime  that  de 
prived  you  of  that  noble  man  1  You  know  he 
was  murdered,  and  ye  think  the  robbers  of  the 
desert  did  it.  No,  no.  Sohrab  feared  that  Gush 
tasp  would  be  made  king,  and  he  sent  out  his 
own  slaves  to  murder  him  as  he  came  home  to 
attend  the  funeral  of  the  dead  king.  Those 
slaves  most  faithfully  did  the  work,  and  when 
they  returned  with  Gushtasp's  life  upon  their 
hands,  Sohrab  killed  them  every  one  with  poison 
— and  he  thought  the  secret  of  his  crime  was 
safe  !" 

"  Black,  accursed  liar !"  shrieked  the  king, 
starting  up  again  ;  "  how  is  your  soul  sworn  to 
falsehood.  My  people,  he  is  crazy.  Listen  not 
to  him  !  Slaves — take  him  away !" 

But  the  slaves  dared  not  stir.  The  old  man 
gazed  a  moment  into  the  face  of  the  frantic  mon 
arch,  and  then  he  resumed  : 

"  I  know  of  what  I  speak,  for  I  saw  the  deed 
done.  I  saw  those  murderers,  and  I  knew  them 
for  Sohrab's  slaves  ;  but  I  was  too  late  to  stop 
the  murder.  Gushtasp  spoke  one  word  to  me 
ere  he  died,  and  that  word  was — Sohrab  !  But 
look  into  the  coward's  face,  and  see  if  the  guilt  is 
not  there  !" 

Every  eye  was  turned  upon  the  king  in  an  in 
stant,  and  some  almost  pitied  him  for  the  dread 
ful  terror  he  suffered.  His  face  was  now  fairly 
purple  with  suffocation,  and  the  power  of  speech 
was  gone  from  him. 

"  And  now  listen  further.  Know  ye  not  how 
for  years  Sohrab  has  trodden  upon  your  liberties 
and  sacrificed  your  interests  to  his  own  base 
passions  ?  Even  now  he  has  within  his  palace  a 
poor  maiden  whom  he  has  snatched  from  her 
home,  and  against  every  plea  of  mercy  and  jus 
tice  would  he  sacrifice  her.  You  know  the  laws 
of  Persia.  What  must  be  the  penalty  of  all  these 
crimes  1" 

"Death  !"  murmured  a  hundred  voices. 

"  Ay — and  let  the  sentence  be  carried  out." 


84 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLEE. 


"  But  we  have  no  law  that  can  put  a  king  to 
death,"  gasped  Sohrab,  seizing  upon  this  one 
hope.  "  'Tis  open  treason  to  speak  of  the  thing !" 

"  'Tis  true/'  uttered  Kanah.  "  We  cannot  put 
a  king  to  death," 

And  so  all  the  ministers  said.  The  king  Was 
above  the  reach  of  human  law. 

"And  now  let  the  traitor  be  led  away,"  cried 
Sohrab,  now  almost  himself  again. 

"  Not  yet,"  pronounced  Kobad,  while  a  strange 
light  shone  in  his  still  dark  eye.  "  There  is  a 
matter  of  justice  to  be  done  yet.  Here  is  an  old 
man  who  has  come  to  demand  his  child,  and  he 
must  be  heard." 

At  this  juncture  Zak  Turan  came  forward,  and 
close  by  his  side  came  his  trembling  wif«> 


"  Now,"  resumed  the  old  astrologer,  "  let  Zil- 
lah  be  brought" 

"  No  !  no  !    It  shall  not  be  !"  cried  the  king, 

"Justice!  justice!"  answered  Kobad.  "Bah- 
boul,  go  and  lead  the  maiden  hither." 

And  from  behind  one  bf  the  great  pillars  step 
ped  the  old  eunuch.  He  bowed  to  the  astrologer, 
and  then,  before  the  astounded  king  could  pre 
vent  him,  he  had  left  the  hall. 

Once  more  that  purple  hue  came  to  the  face  of 
the  king,  for  he  was  fearful  yet.  A  new  cloud 
arose  before  him,  and  it  was  so  black  that  the 
one  which  had  just  passed  seemed  all  light  by 
its  sids. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


CONCLUSION. 


ERE  long,  the  lovely  Zillah  was  led  into  the 
audience  chamber,  and  a  murmur  of  surprise  and 
delight  arose  from  the  lips  of  the  people  as  her 
transcendent  beauty  shone  upon  them.  She  was 
pale  with  excitement,  but  her  face  flushed  when 
she  saw  Feridoon,  and  she  did  not  shrink  from 
his  impulsive  embrace.  Next  she  saw  the  good 
Zak  Turan  and  Rudabah,  and  she  forgot  her 
sorrows. 

As  soon  as  this  scene  was  passed,  Feridoon 
sprang  upon  the  back  of  one  of  the  marble  lions 
which  supported  one  of  the  corners  of  the  throne, 
and  in  a  clear,  bold  tone,  he  cried  : 

"  My  countrymen,  I  demand  at  your  hands  the 
death  of  him  who  murdered  my  father!" 

For  a  few  moments  all  was  hushed  with  aston 
ishment,  but  an  old  soldier  cried  out : 

"'Tis  Gushtasp  himself !" 

And  at  that  moment  hundreds  recognized  the 
remarkable  likeness. 

"No,  no,"  spoke  Kobad,  "it  is  not  Gush 
tasp — it  is  his  son,  and  he  shall  have  the  boon 
he  craves." 

"  It  cannot  be,"  pronounced  the  old  counsel 
lor,  "for  the  person  of  the  king  is  sacred.  But 
you  may  now  speak  of  the  maiden." 

"  Ay — and  so  I  will,"  returned  the  old  man 
"  for  she  stands  the  same  as  stands  the  noble 
youth — with  a  sad,  strange  story  of  her  life. 

6 


Now  listen  to  me,  for  your  very  souls  shall  start 
in  horror  at  what  I  shall  tell !" 

Once  more  the  king  started  from  his  throne, 
but  he  could  not  stand,  and  the  words  he  at 
tempted  to  speak  only  gurgled  in  his  throat. 
The  astrologer  looked  pityingly  into  his  face 
for  an  instant,  and  then  went  on  : 

"  You  all  remember  Kei  Khosrou.  He  was 
a  king  who  at  least  loved  his  people  and  feared 
not  their  enemies.  You  remember  when  the 
insurrection  occurred  in  Khorason.  The  king 
went  thither  with  only  a  few  of  his  people, 
knowing  that  his  presence  would  quell  it.  Gush 
tasp  was  away,  and  when  the  king  left  he  gave 
the  throne  in  charge  to  Sohrab.  Sohrab  felt  the 
golden  seat  beneath  him,  and  he  wished  lo  pos 
sess  it  for  his  own — and  with  the  wish  came  the 
purpose.  He  called  two  of  his  trusty  messengers 
to  his  side  and  bid  them  go  out  and  hang  upon 
the  king's  course,  and  when  he  stopped  at  night, 
they  were  to  draw  the  king  away  by  persuasion, 
and  when  they  had  got  him  at  a  safe  distance 
from  his  retinue,  they  were  to  kill  him  and 
secure  the  body,  and  then  return  to  the  city  with 
it,  and  then  he  would  say  the  king  had  returned 
sick  and  out  of  his  reason,  and  died. 

"  The  two  messengers  went  out,  and  they 
came  up  with  the  royal  retinue ;  and  at  night 
they  made  their  way  into  the  king's  tent,  and 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLER. 


under  a  false  pretext  they  drew  him  away.  When 
they  had  gone  far  enough,  and  the  king  demand 
ed  to  know  their  business,  one  of  them  struck 
him  upon  the  head  ;  but  the  king  fell  not.  He 
drew  his  sword,  and  the  villains  set  upon  him 
'fiercely,  One  of  them  the  king  killed,  but  the 
other  struck  him  down  at  length,  and  believed 
him  to  be  dead.  Yet  the  surviving  villain  was 
too  weak  from  loss  of  blood  and  exhaustion  to 
either  move  the  king's  body,  or  to  bury  it,  and 
he  crept  in  among  the  bushes  to  recover  him 
self.  In,  the  morning  the  king's  retinue  found 
no  king  when  they  awoke,  and  one  of  them  said 
•^-'he  has  ridden  on  alone.'  They  hunted  some 
time  for  him,  but  not  finding  him  they  started 
on  towards  Khorason,  thinking  that  he  must 
have  hastened  on  in  advance. 

"  The  wounded  assassin  saw  them  depart,  and 
just  then  some  peasants  came  that  way,  and  see 
ing  the  body  of  the  king,  they  picked  it  up  and 
bore  it  away.  The  assassin  dared  not  reveal 
himself  to  them,  and  when  they  were  gone  he 
crept  out  from  his  hiding-place  and  made  back 
towards  the,  city,  and  there  he  told  Sohrab  what 
had  happened.  Other  messengers  were  at  once 
sent  out,  and  they  found  the  peasants  after  two 
days'  search,  and  the  peasants  said  they  had  bu* 
ried  the  body  in  the  sand,  and  that  the  jackala 
had  unearthed  it  and  eaten  it  up.  Then  these 
messengers  returned,  having  first  been  assured 
that  the  peasants  knew  not  whose  body  they  had 
buried,  and  told  their  success  to  Sohrab.  Then 
he  caused  some  crafty  workmen  to  set  at  the 
task  of  making  an  image  of  clay  to  resemble  the 
king — and  it  was  made,  and  so  truly  was  it  col 
ored  that  it  looked  like  a  human  corse.  Then 
Sohrab  gave  out  that  the  king  had  returned  sick 
and  crazy,  and  that  he  had  died  ;  and  he  caused 
this  image  to  be  dressed  in  grave-clothes  and  ex- 
hibit|l  it  in  the  hall  of  judgment,  and  a  barrier 
was  built  about  it  that  no  hand  might  profane 
it.  And  he  told  that  the  queen  had  become  crazy 
and  fled.  He  meant  the  king's  favorite  wife, 
Roxana,  for  it  was  known  that  she  was  soon 
to  give  birth  to  a  child." 

The  old  man  stopped  a  moment  to  overcome 
the  emotion  that  worked  upon  him,  and  while  he 
did  so  his  eyes  sought  those  of  the  king,  but  the 
latter  could  not  speak.  At  length  the  speaker 
went  on. 

"But,  my  countrymen,  those  peasants  spoke 
falsely  to  the  messengers  who  came  to  them. 
The  king  was  not  killed.  Those  honest  people 
Cursed  him,  and  it  was  at  his  command  that 


they  told  the  messengers  he  was  dead  and  bu 
ried.  The  king  knew  who  his  enemy  was,  and 
his  only  care  was  to  save  his  favorite  wife  and 
child,  for  Eoxana  had  already  given  birth  to  a 
daughter.  One  of  the  peasants  had  a  brother  in 
the  city,  named  Zak  fruran,  a  poor  cobbler. 
The  king  gave  to  this  peasant  his  royal  signet, 
and  bade  him  hasten  to  the  city  and  see  Roxana 
— to  see  her  without  Sohrab's  knowledge-— with 
out  the  knowledge  of  any  but  the  women.  He 
did  so — he  was  bold  and  witty — and  Roxana 
received  her  husband's  warning  in  season ;  and 
she  took  her  infant  and  fled  to  the  house  of  the 
cobbler,  where  she  represented  herself  as  the 
widow  of  a  poor  merchant  who  had  been  cruelly 
put  to  death  by  the  temporary  ruler.  And  there 
she  found  a  shelter  and  a  home  ;  but  she  lived 
not  locg — only  two  short  months — and  then  she 
gave  her  infant  princess  to  the  cobbler's  wife, 
to  care  for  and  love.  % 

"  Khei  Khosrou  'got  well  in  season  to  witness 
the  cruel  butchery  of  the  noble  Gushtasp,  and  he 
saw  the  general's  wife  flee  with  her  infant  son, 
but  he  could  not  find  them.  Some  of  you  al 
ready  know  the  strange  story  of  that  son — how 
his  mother  must  have  been  devoured  by  the  wild 
beasts,,  and  how  he  was  suckled  and  reared  by 
the  wild  goats,  until  Rustem  found  him.  But 
Khei  Khosrou  came  to  the  city  in  disguise.  He 
saw  the  wicked  Sohrab  upon  the  throne,  and  all 
sick  at  heart  he  turned  away  from  the  .scene. 
Royalty  had  no  charms  for  him— he  felt  easier 
with  the  yoke  from  his  neck,  and  he  resolved  to 
travel. 

He  saw  his  infant,  but  he  did  not  tell  the  good 
people  who  protected  it  that  it  was  his  child,  and 
then  he  started  off.  He  visited  Arabia  and 
Egypt,  and  other  countries.  A  few  years  since 
he  returned  to  this  city,  and  ere  long  his  heart 
was  pained  at  the  wickedness  he  saw.  But  his 
child  had  grown  up  beautiful  and  good,  and  that 
gave  him  joy.  Ere  long  he  learned,  through  an 
old  teacher,  of  the  youth  Rustem  had  found 
upon  the  Hetzendarras,  and  when  he  saw  the 
youth  he  knew  'twas  Gushtasp's  son.  Then 
there  came  a  strange,  wild  hope  to  his  bosom. 
He  saw  that  the  youth  was  noble  and  good,  and 
he  hoped  to  make  that  youth  the  husband  of  his 
own  sweet  child — and  then  give  to  his  wronged  • 
and  suffering  people  a  virtuous,  just  and  fear 
less  king  and  queen  !  His  work  is  almost  done  !" 

As  the  old  man  ceased  speaking,  he  bowed  his 
head,  and  big  tears  started  from  his  eyes.  Soon 
he  felt  a  hand  upon  his  knee,  and  when  he  looked 


THE  KING  AND  COBBLEE. 


87 


down  he  found  Zillah  and  Feridoon  both  at  his 
feet.  He  raised  them  up,  and  with  deep  cries  of 
joyful  emotion  they  sank  upon  his  bosom. 

"My  father!''  murmured  Zillah,  "O,  my 
father  !" 

"  Yes,  sweet  one,  I  am  thy  father.  I  am — I 
am  !" 

One  moment  the  old  man  stood  thus,  and  then 
he  pushed  his  children  from  him  and  started  up 
the  steps  of  gold  that  led  to  the  throne.  With 
one  hand  he  seized  the  jewelled  sceptre,  and  with 
the  other  he  caught  Sohrab  by  the  throat  and 
hurled  him  from  the  throne. 

"  Out,  dog !"  he  shouted,  while  his  eyes  flashed 
fire.  "  "What  ho  !  slaves,  seize  the  murderer ! 
People  of  my  kingdom,  once  more  behold  your 
true  king,  come  to  set  you  free  from  a  monster, 
and  to  restore  joy  once  more  to  your  hearts, 
peace  to  your  homes,  and  plenty  to  your  garners  !" 

Who  doubted  that  tongue  now  ?  Who  now 
did  rot  know  those  features,  all  changed  as  they 
were  by  time  and  troubles  *?  Not  one.  All  gazed 
a  moment  at  the  venerable  man  who  held  the 
sceptre,  and  then  they  fell  upon  their  knees  and 
shouted  with  all  their  might  in  tones  of  mad  joy. 
***** 

Sohrab  had  been  led  away  by  the  very  men 
who  had  been  so  lately  wont  to  obey  him,  and 
he  spoke  not  a  word  ere  he  went.  Not  one  lisp 
fell  from  his  lips,  but  groans,  deep  and  heavy, 
could  be  heard  away  down  in  his  bosom.  He 
was  led  away,  and  that  very  night  he  died  in  his 
prison-room.  He  took  his  own  life,  for  he  was 
found  the  next  morning  weltering  in  his  own 
blood,  which  came  from  a  wound  in  the  neck 
made  by  a  small  knife.  None  mourned  for  him, 
not  even  his  wives,  and  his  body  was  placed  in 
a  low,  dark  sepulchre,  away  off  under  the  moun 
tain,  where  reposed  the  bones  of  malefactors. 

Kei  Khcsrou  explained  to  his  friends  how  he 
had  obtained  the  assistance  of  Bahboul  and  Thais 
by  telling  them  who  he  was,  and  also  how  he  had 
been  obliged  to  reveal  himself  to  Ban,  Saffo  and 
Lcnza.  And  he  explained  other  things,  too, 
until  they  all  wondered  they  had  not  known  him 
when  first  he  came  among  them. 

A  few  days  passed  away,  during  which  time 
the  restored  king  was  at  work  night  and  day  in 
giving  order  and  harmony  to  the  several  depart 
ments  of  government.  One  evening,  while  he 
and  Kanah  were  at  work  among  the  parchment 
rolls  of  the  late  ruler,  the  latter  opened  one  of 


them,  and  as  his  eye  ran  over  it,  he  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  What  is  k  ?"  said  the  king, 
"  Light  upon  a  dark  subject,  sire,"  returned 
the  old  counsellor.     "  You  remember  how  quick 
ly  the  insurrection 'was  quelled  of  itself  at  Kho- 
rason,  after  you  were  supposed  to  be  dead?" 
"  I  do  remember  it,  and  I  wondered  at  it." 
"  Then  wonder  no  more,  for  see  here,"  .uttered 
Kanah,  as  he  passed  over  the  parchment. 

It  was  a  simple  document,  and  told  that  Soh 
rab  had  got  up  the  insurrection  in  question  him 
self. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Kei  Khosrou,  as  he  rolled 
the  missive  up,  "  he  will  not  breed  wickedness 
any  more." 

At  length  the  business  was  all  regulated,  and 
then  the  old  monarch  saw  Feridoon  and  his  own 
sweet  Zillah  made  man  and  wife.  Then  he  col 
lected  all  the  nobles  of  his  kingdom,  and  before 
them  all  he  resigned  his  crown  to  Feridoon,  for 
he  was  too  old  to  do  the  duty,  and  yet  he  could 
work  when  there  was  need,  for  his  counsel  and 
advice  should  ever  be  free  while  he  lived. 

Eastern  had  remained  away  from  the  royal 
palace,  for  he  feared  the  wrath  of  the  young 
monarch,  but  Feridoon  recalled  him  to  court, 
and  placed  him  in  a  station  of  honor  about  his 
person,  and  treated  him  so  kindly  and  generous, 
ly  that  even  Kustem  himself  forgot  the  harsh 
ness  of  which  he  had  been  guilty. 

And  Zak  Turan  cobbled  sandals  no  longer. 
He  became  a.  man  of  vast  importance  at  court, 
being  made  one  of  the  ushers  of  the  royal  apart 
ments  and  a  sort  of  officer  at  large,  to  go  and 
come  when  he  pleased.  His  wife  seldom  scolded 
now,  for  she  was  made  busy  with  the  young 
queen's  slaves,  keeping  them  in  place  and  at 
their  duty,  and  what  she  had  of  harmless  venom 
she  could  vent  upon  them.  But  they  ratheV  en 
joyed  it  than  otherwise,  from  the  fact  that  she 
was  so  kind  to  them  always,  that  they  loved  to 
see  her  have  these  little  spells  of  selfish  enjoy 
ment. 

And  Persia  saw  better  and  happier  days.  Her 
commerce  with  other  nations  expanded,  her  laws 
were  improved,  her  home  interests  were  faithful 
ly  looked  after,  and  through  all  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land  went  up  praises  of  love  and 
gratitude  to  the  youthful  king,  for  he  was  all  that 
a  nation,  jealous  of  its  honor,  and  ambitious  of 
its  prosperity,  could  ask, 


THE  END, 


THE   GOVERNESS. 


BY    T.    A.    KIMB  AL  L. 


"  WANTED,  a  Governess.  Apply  at  No.  22, 
Melville  Street,  Baltimore." 

"  Shall  I  apply  for  the  situation  ?"  mused  Ella 
St.  George,  as  she  thoughtfully  laid  the  news 
paper,  in  which  was  the  above  advertisement, 
upon  tlie  table  ;  "  my  little  stock  of  money  will 
soon  be  exhausted ;  I  must  come  to  some  de 
cision  quickly,  and  I  maybe  fortunate  enough  to 
find  a  good  home."  And  she  fell  into  a  painful 
reverie,  and  thought  of  the  happy  time  when 
she*  had  no  care  for  the  future,  when  a  kind 
father  had  protected  her  from  every  ill,  a  fond 
mother  had  gazed  with  pride  and  affection  on 
her,  and  her  brother  had  lovingly  twined  his  fin 
gers  in  her  golden  curls. 

The  tears  started  to  her  eyes,  as  she  thought, 
"  where  are  they  now  ?"  From  her  little  win 
dow,  she  could  see  the  white  marble  that  headed 
her  father's  and  mother's  grave.  And  she  had 
never  heard  from  her  brother,  or  seen  him,  since 
the  time,  five  years  before,  when,  on  the  eve  of 
his  departure  for  Australia,  he  had  cut  off  one 
of  the  locks  she  prized  so  much,  and  pictured  to 
her  the  future,  and  the  happiness  that  awaited 
them  when  he  should  have  become  rich. 


Mrs.  Allen  had  just  settled  herself  in  the  li 
brary  of  her  comfortable  home,  for  a  quiet  morn 
ing,  having  given  orders  that  she  should  be 
denied  to  all  callers,  with  the  exception  of  the 
applicants  for  the  situation  of  governess.  The 
servant  opened  the  door,  and  ushered  in  a  tall, 
graceful  girl,  apparently  about  eighteen.  She 
looked  very  beautiful  as  she  timidly  entered,  her 
auburn  hair  hanging  in  rich  profusion,  her  large 
blue  eyes  beaming  with  intelligence,  and  the 
purity  of  her  complexion  enhanced  by  contrast 
with  the  black  habit  she  wore.  Mrs.  Allen  arose 
ia  some  surprise,  and  awaited  the  object  of  her 
visit. 

"  Madam,  I  underitand  you  are  in  want  of  a 
governess  1" 

"  Ah !  yes ;  pray  be  seated.  You  saw  my 
advertisement  in  the  paper,  I  presume "?" 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  Can  you  teach  the  usual  branches  of  an 
English  education,  with  the  addition  of  music, 
Italian,  and  French  ?" 

"  I  think  I  can,  madam.  I  am  a  proficient  in 
music,  and  can  teach  singing  and  the  rudiments 
of  French  and  Italian/' 


THE  GOVERNESS. 


"  Ah !  Would  you  oblige  me  by  singing,  and 
accompanying  yourself  upon  the  piano  forte  1" 
said  Mrs.  Allen.  "  We  will  proceed  to  the 
drawing-room,  if  you  please,"  and  gracefully 
rising,  she  led  the  way. 

Ella  seated  herself  at  the  beautiful  instrument, 
and  commenced  singing,  with  great  sweetness, 
"  The  light  of  other  days." 

Mrs.  Allen  said,  "  you  sing  sweetly ;  that  song 
is  a  favorite  with  me.  I  think  if  my  terms  suit 
you,  I  shall  like  you  very  well.  My  daughters 
are  of  the  respective  ages  of  nine,  twelve  and 
fifteen,  and  the  salary  I  thought  of  giving  is  two 
hundred  dollars  a  year." 

Ella  accepted  the  situation. 

"If  you  like,"  resumed  Mrs.  Allen,  "you  can 
come  this  evening".  You  will  take  your  meals 
in  the  nursery,  with  the  children,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  dinner.  Mr.  Allen  insists  upon  the 
children  coming  down  to  dinner ;  of  course,  you 
will  accompany  them." 

Ella  assented,  and  taking  leave  of  Mrs. 
Allen,  promised  to  come  at  seven  o'clock  in 
the  evening. 

She  now  proceeded  to  the  little  cottage,  where 
she  had  boarded  since  her  bereavement,  and 
busied  herself  the  remainder  of  the  day  in 
making  the  necessary  arrangements  for  her 
change  of  residence.  Having  completed  these, 
and  finding  she  had  still  an  ho'ur  at  her  disposal, 
she  strolled  towards  the  little  grave-yard  that 
contained  the  remains  of  her  parents,  and  she 
almost  wished  that  her  struggle  in  life  was  over, 
and  that  she  was  quietly  sleeping  beside  them. 

The  time  for  her  departure  at  last  arrived ; 
and  stepping  into  the  carriage  she  had  ordered, 
was  soon  conveyed  to  the  stately  looking  house 
that  was,  for  the  present,  to  be  her  home. 

Mrs.  Allen  and  two  of  her  daughters  had 
gone  out  for  the  evening,  and  Miss  Lucy,  the 
youngest,  was  in  bed.  *  Miss  St.  George  was  in 
formed  that  she  was  to  share  Miss  Lucy's  room, 
and  was  glad  to  retire  at  once.  Lucy  was  sleep 
ing,  and  Ella  thought,  as  she  gazed  upon  her 
fair,  sweet  countenance,  that  she  would  not  have 
much  trouble  with  her.  Hastily  undressing,  she 
joined  her  little  companion ;  and  fatigued  with 
the  exertions  of  the  day,  she  was  soon  in  a 
sound  slumber. 

The  next  morning,  Mrs.  Allen  entered  the 
school  room,  accompanied  by  her  two  daughters, 
Ellen  and  Genevra,  whom  she  introduced  to  Miss 
St.  George.  "  You  have  already  made  the  ac 
quaintance  of  Lucy,  I  perceive,"  she  said ;  "  I 


{  shall  leave  them  entirely  to  your  own  judgment, 
as  my  time  is  quite  taken  up,  and  I  hope  you 
will  get  on  well  together." 

Twelve  months  glided  away  happily.  Mr. 
Allen  expressed  himself  highly  gratified  with 
the  improvement  of  his  daughters ;  and  their 
mamma  was  glad  to  have  the  responsibility  off 
her  hands.  They  kept  very  little  company,  and 
with  the  exception  of  a  Mr.  Stanley,  a  constant 
visitor,  Ella  had  not  seen  any  strangers. 

Herbert  Stanley  was  a  handsome,  intellectual 
looking  man,  about  thirty  years  of  age,  and  pos 
sessed  considerable  property  in  the  South.  He 
had  never  had  any  chance  of  conversing  much 
with  Ella,  as  she  left  the  room  immediately  after 
dinner,  each  day,  with  the  two  young  ladies ;  but 
he  was  particularly  attentive  to  her  during  din 
ner,  and  evidently  admired  her. 

"  Mamma,  do  you  not  think  Ella  very  hand 
some  V  said  Lucy  one  day  to  Mrs.  Allen. 

"  I  don't  know,  child ;  what  makes  you  ask  ?" 

"  Well,  Mr.  Stanley  said  to  pa  that  he  thought 
her  a  lovely  girl — that  she  had  the  grace  of  a 
fairy,  and  the  prettiest  blue  eyes  he  had  ever 
seen.  Pa  said  he  thought  so  too,  and  so  do  I ; 
don't  you  think  so  too,  mamma  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  Miss  St.  George  is  doing, 
to  allow  you  to  plague  me  now,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Allen;  "go  up  stairs,  directly." 

"  We  have  finished  our  studies  for  this  morn 
ing,  mamma." 

"  Tell  Miss  St.  George  to  walk  out  with  you, 
then." 

Ella  little  dreamed  of  the  storm  that  was 
brewing  overhead,  as  she  dressed  to  go  out  with 
her  young  charges.  Lucy  looked  very  sad,  and 
felt  afraid  she  had  got  her  gentle  governess  into 
some  trouble,  though  she  could  not  see  why  her 
mamma  should  be  so  ugly. 

It  was  a  lovely  morning,  and  they  walked  to 
wards  the  old  mill,  gathering  the  wild  flowers  on 
their  way;  Geuevra  playfully  insisted  upon  dress 
ing  Ella's  hair  with  the  flowers,  "just  to  see 
how  they  looked,"  she  said,  "  as  nobody  would 
be  coming  that  way  to  interrupt  them." 

They  were  thus  pleasantly  occupied,  Geneva, 
in  making  her  governess  look  like  the  "  Queen 
of  May,"  and  Ellen  and  Lucy  bringing  her  flow 
ers,  when  they  were  startled  by  a  deep  toned 
voice,  saying,  "  Good  morning,  ladies."  Ella 
started  to  her  feet,  and  the  color  rushed  to  her 
temples,  as  she  perceived  Mr.  Stanley,  smiling 
at  her  confusion.  She  tried  to  disentangle  her 
hair  from  the  flowers^mt  Genevra  had  fixed  them. 


90 


THE  GOVERNESS. 


in  so  well,  that  neither  she  nor  her  governess 
could  get  them  out. 

The  gentleman  proffered  his  assistance,  though 
he  said  it  was  a  pity  to  take  them  out,  they  were 
so  becoming  to  her.  They  now  began  to  think 
of  returning  to  the  house,  and  Mr.  Stanley  said 
he  was  going  to  dine  with  them,  and  with  Miss 
St.  George's  permission,  would  accompany  them 
home.  Genevra  smiled  archly  at  her  governess. 
Mr.  Stanley  and  Ella  entered  into  a  pleasant 
conversation,  and  his  animated  countenance 
showed  how  much,  he  was  pleased  with  his 
fair  companion.  They  reached  the  house  just 
as  the  dinner  bell  sounded,  and  she  and  her  pu 
pils  hastily  ran  up  stairs  to  arrange  their  dresses. 
After  dinner,  the  ladies  retired,  as  usual,  and 
Mr.  Stanley  strolled  into  the  library,  and 
through  the  door  communicating  with  the  con 
servatory.  He  had  not  been  there  long,  when 
he  was  aroused  by  the  sound  of  voices  in  the  li 
brary,  and  he  heard  Mrs.  Allen  say : 

"  I  insist  upon  your  leaving  my  house  this 
evening,  Miss  St  George.  I  thought,  when  I 
engaged  you,  that  you  were  a  respectable  person, 
and  not  a  detestable  flirt." 

Ella  indignantly  repelled  the  accusation. 

"  I  tell  you,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Allen,  "  that  your 
conduct  towards  Mr.  Stanley  was  truly  shame 
ful,  and  he  might  well'  say,  '  that  you  were  a  dis 
graceful  flirt!'" 

"  Madam,  I  cannot  believe  that  Mr.  Stanley 
would  say  so,  as  he  has  not  had  any  opportunity 
of  judging;  and  as  to  'flirting  with  him,'  I 
cannot  tell  what  you  mean." 

"  Never  mind  that.  He  said  so,  and  remem 
ber,  you  leave  my  house  to-night !" 

Ella  answered  haughtily,  "  let  it  be  so  then/' 
and  was  about  to  leave  the  library,  when  Mr. 
Stanley  entered,  from  the  conservatory,  and 
begged  her  to  stay  a  moment. 

"lam  sorry  to  have  to  contradict  you,"  he 
said,  addressing  Mrs.  Allen,  "  but  I  think  Miss 
Ella  anything  but  a  '  flirt,'  and  I  think  she  is, 
indeed,  not  suitable  for  her  present  situation ; 
she  might  fill  a  better  one." 

Mrs.  Allen  flounced  out  of  the  room. 

"  Miss  Ella,"  said  Stanley,  as  he  seated  him 
self  by  her  side,  "  will  you  permit  me  to  ask  a 
few  questions,  in  a  spirit  of  friendship,  without 
attributing  it  to  impertinence  1" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Where  do  you  think  of  going,  upon  leaving 
Mrs.  Allen's  ?"  * 


"  I  have  not  decided  ;  my  dismissal  has  been 
so  perfectly  unexpected." 

"  My  mother  would  be  delighted  to  make  your 
acquaintance,  Miss  Ella,  and  you  would  be  very 
comfortable  with  her  for  a  few  weeks.  Do  not 
let  any  feeling  of  delicacy  induce  you  to  refuse 
this  temporary  home.  I  am  at  present  staying 
at  a  hotel,  and  would  feel  gratified  if  you  would 
allow  me  to  convey  you  to  Evergreen  Cottage 
this  evening." 

Ella  felt  uncertain  whafr  to  do.  She  did  not 
like  to  refuse  Mr.  Stanley's  offer,  he  seemed  so 
earnest  and  respectful  in  his  desire  to  serve  her, 
and  she  finally  consented  to  remain  with  his 
mother  for  the  present. 

Stanley  said  he  would  come  for  her  in  an 
hour.  Accordingly,  at  four  o'clock  (much  to 
Mrs.  Allen's  annoyance),  a  carriage  drove  up  to 
the  door,  and  Mr.  Stanley  alighting,  inquired  if 
Miss  St.  George  was  ready.  And,  having 
taken  leave  of  her  young  charges,  and  promising 
to  write  to  them,  Mr.  Stanley  helped  her  into 
the  carriage,  and  they  soon  found  themselves  in 
the  cheerful  little  parlor  of  Evergreen  Cottage, 
his  mother's  pretty  residence. 

He  introduced  Ella,  and  explained  the  circum 
stances  that  had  transpired  at  Mrs.  Allen's. 
The  old  lady  welcomed  her  with  great  cordiality, 
and  assured  her  she  would  feel  happy  in  her 
company  as  long  as  she  would  stay  with  her. 
She  then  rang  the  bell  for  tea,  and  soon  after, 
Herbert,  looking  at  his  watch,  said  he  had  an 
engagement,  and  must  leave  them ;  but  he 
would  call  in  to  see  them  in  a  few  days. 

When  Ella  came  down,  the  next  morning, 
she  found  Mrs.  Stanley  sitting  at  the  breakfast 
table,  waiting  for  her. 

"Good  morning,my  dear ;  how  did  you  sleep  ?" 

"  Soundly,  madam.  I  hope  I  have  not  kept 
you  waiting  for  breakfast." 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear."  Just  then  the  servant 
entered  with  a  beautiful  bouquet,  of  the  rarest 
flowers.  There  was  a  slip  of  paper  attached  : 
"  For  Miss  Ella,  with  Herbert  Stanley's  com 
pliments." 

"  O,  how  very  beautiful !"  exclaimed  Ella ; 
"  how  I  love  flowers  !" 

Mrs.  Stanley  smiled,  and  remarked  that  Her 
bert  was  always  fond  of  flowers. 

A  week  had  passed  away,  and  Herbert  Stan 
ley  had  not  been  to  his  mother's  cottage,  but 
each  morning  he  had  sent  a  bouquet  for  Ella. 
It  was  a  fine  evening,  and  the  ladies  were  seated 
at  the  window,  pleasantly  conversing,  when  a 


THE  GOVERNESS. 


91 


barouche  drove  up,  and  Stanley  bowed  and 
smiled,  as  he  alighted. 

"Well,  ladies,  how  do  you  get  on?  Ah! 
Miss  Ella,  you  are  ruining  your  complexion  by 
staying  in  the  house.  Will  you  not  ride  with 
me,  this  lovely  evening  ?  come,  it  will  do  you 
good  ;"  and  coming  nearer  to  her,  he  said,  "  I 
have  something  particular  to  say  to  you,  and 
may  not  have  another  opportunity,  as  I  leave  for 
the  South  in  a  fortnight." 

Ella's  cheeks  were  rosy  enough,  as  she  left 
the  room  to  prepare  for  the  ride.  She  was  soon 
ready ;  Stanley  assisted  her  into  the  barouche, 
and  waving  their  hands  to  Mrs.  Stanley,  were 
soon  out  of  sight.  For  some  time  they  rode  on 
in  silence ;  Ella  admiring  the  scenery,  and  Her 
bert  apparently  lost  in  thought.  At  length, 
arousing  himself,  he  said : 

"  Miss  Ella,  I  told  you  I  should  have  to  go 
South  in  a  fortnight ;  I  shall  probably  remain 
two  or  three  years ;  but  I  cannot  go,  without 
saying  how  much  I  esteem — how  fondly  I  love 
you.  Dear  Ella,  will  you  be  my  wife  ?  the  light 
of  my  southern  home  ?  If  you  refuse,  life  will 
indeed  be  a  dreary  blank ;"  and  he  looked  anx 
iously  for  an  answer. 


Ella  trembled,  and  said  :  "  Mr.  Stanley,  you 
forget  the  difference  of  our  stations  in  life.  Your 
mother " 

"  Will  be  delighted,"  he  said.  "Dear  Ella, 
say  at  once  that  you  will  accompany  me  to  the 
South,  as  my  darling  wife." 

She  was  confused  ;  but  Stanley  construed  her 
silence  favorably  to  his  wishes,  and  tenderly 
drawing  her  shawl  more  closely  around  her,  he 
turned  the  conversation  upon  indifferent  sub 
jects,  and  they  were  soon  once  more  at  Mrs. 
Stanley's.  They  entered  the  parlor  together. 
Herbert's  countenance  was  radiant  with  happi 
ness.  Ella  was  going  to  run  up  stairs,  but  he, 
gently  detaining  her,  said  : 

"  Dear  mother,  allow  me  to  introduce  you  to 
my  promised  bride !" 

The  old  lady  was  very  much  affected,  and 
said :  "  God  bless  you,  my  children !  May  you 
ever  be  happy." 

And  now,  need  we  say  how  beautiful  Ella 
looked,  in  her  bridal  robe  of  pale  blue  satin  and 
white  lace,  and  the  violets  and  lilies  in  her  hair  ? 
Or  how  proud  the  handsome  bridegroom  looked 
of  his  lovely  bride  ?  and  how  the  long  lost 
brother  returned  to  witness  their  happiness  ? 


REMINISCENCES  OF  CALIFORNIA, 


BY  FREDERICK  STANHOPE. 


MONTAIGNE  has  said  "  that  the  history  of  a 
great  city  is  the  history  of  its  nation ;"  never, 
perhaps,  was  this  more  fully  exemplified  than  in 
California. 

San  Francisco  was  settled  in  the  year  1775  by 
the  Franciscan  monks,  sent  out  from  old  Spain 
as  missionaries  to  the  Indians ;  but  their  "  mis 
sion  "  was  some  three  miles  from  the  site  of  the 
present  city,  which,  in  1846,  was  the  little  peublo 
of  "  Yerbabuena"  (sweet  herb),  so  called,  from 
the  profusioh  of  a  kind  of  fern  growing  on  the 
otherwise  desolate  soil. 

For  years,  it  had  been  scarcely  known,  save  to 
the  geographer,  or  eastern  hide  merchant,  and 
only  looked  on  as  a .  convenient  depot  for  the 
storage  of  hides ;  while  the  fine  bay  rendered 
the  shipment  easy.  The  town  comprised  some 
fifty  houses,  with  perhaps  a  couple  of  hundred 
inhabitants.  The  buildings  of  adobes  (sun 
baked  bricks)  straggled  over  a  large  space, 
fronted  by  the  bay,  and  backed  by  a  range  of 
sand  hills.  In  the  centre  of  the  place  was  the 
plaza,  with  an  old  one  story  adobe  edifice,  having 
piazzas  on  two  sides,  and  some  pretensions  to 
whitewash,  though  evidently  of  many  years' 
standing  ;  this  was  the  custom  and  court  house. 
The  dusty,  deserted,  grass-grown  streets,  if 
streets  they  could  be  called,  rarely  evinced  any 
greater  sign  of  business  than  a  native  cart  or 


two,  lazily  dragging  their  way,  with  vegetables 
from  the  mission,  or  hides  for  shipment.  These 
carts  were  curiosities  in  their  way;  they  had 
two  wheels,  cut  from  solid  blocks  of  wood,  with 
a  hole  for  the  axle,  and  being  far  from  round,  as 
they  turned,  the  cart  would  sway  from  side  to 
side  ;  the  body  was  a  few  boards,  with  the  pole, 
or  shaft,  lashed  to  the  horns  of  a  pair  of  oxen.. 
An  affair  of  this  kind  would  come  lumbering  into 
town  with,  perhaps,  half  a  'dozen  water-melons 
for  a  load,  brought  as  many  miles. 

In  the  bay,  were  one  or  two  rusty  ships,  load 
ed  with  assorted  cargoes,  which  they  peddled  out 
to  the  inhabitants  at  the  very  reasonable  rate  of 
three  hundred  per  cent,  profit.  These  were  the 
stores  of  California ;  they  monopolized  all  the 
trade,  and  when  a  signorita  wished  a  new  "  re- 
boso,"  or  a  young  cavalier  a  pair  of  "  calcon- 
cellos,"  instead  of  doing  their  shopping  in  town> 
they  took  boats  for  the  harbor,  carrying  off  the 
hides  necessary  for  payment  for  their  purchases. 

An  air  of  languor  seemed  to  pervade  all,  and 
everything  ;  it  was  typical  of  the  condition  of  the 
entire  country.  Occasionally,  a  "  Gente  de 
razon,"  out  for  a  "  pasea,"  would  dash  through 
the  streets  with  gaily  caparisoned  horse  and 
jingling  bit  and  spurs  ;  and  as  the  fresh  breeze 
from  the  bay  saluted  him,  he  would  pause,  while 
puffing  his  cigarette,  to  gaze  around,  and  then 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


93 


gallop  off  perfectly  contented  with  the  condition 
of  affairs,  and  satisfied  that  no  change  could  im 
prove  them  for  the  better. 

Alta  California  was  divided  among  a  few  in 
dolent  rancheros,  many  owning  immense  tracts 
of  land ;  some  had  sixty,  and  in  one  instance, 
eighty  square  miles.  Very  little  of  this  was 
under  any  kind  of  cultivation ;  their  herds  of 
cattle  running  wild,  afforded  them,  by  their 
hides,  all  they  required  for  their  simple  mode  of 
life,  clothing,  and  a  few  luxuries  from  the  ships, 
For  many  years,  the  country  had  remained  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  a  primitive  state.  This 
was  the  position  of  California  in  1846. 

But  the  star  of  progress  begins  to  appear  in 
the  east.  War  has  been  rumored ;  at  first  scarce 
believed,  then  deemed  of  so  little  moment,  by 
the  far  distant  Californian,  that  it  is  forgotten. 
The  field,  however,  is  opened;  Fremont's  ac 
count  of  the  passage  of  the  mountains  has  been 
published,  and  the  route  proved  practicable; 
and  western  frontiers'-men,  becoming  crowded, 
shoulder  their  rifles  and  start  for  the  mountains, 
while  the  eastern  Yankee,  wishing  for  a  change, 
but  more  cautious,  takes  ship  round  the  Horn, 
firm  believers  all  in  "  manifest  destiny."  Cali 
fornia,  they  were  confident,  would  follow  and 
take  her  place  by  the  side  of  Texas  and  Oregon. 

So  they  began  to  drop  in  on  our  friends  of 
the  Pacific,  from  the  plains,  from  Mexico,  and 
by  sea;  the  natives  became  uneasy;  these  Grin 
gos  troubled  them  with  their  restless  manners. 
One  day,  a  large  ship,  filled  with  armed  men, 
sailed  quietly  into  the  bay  of  San  Francisco, 
and  dropped  anchor ;  she  had  the  first  detach 
ment  of  the  Seventh  Regiment  of  New  York  Vol 
unteers.  In  a  week,  she  was  joined  by  her  two 
consorts. 

The  Californians  rode  down  to  the  beach  and 
gazed  with  stupid  wonder,  while  the  troops 
(some  eight  hundred)  disembarked,  and  then,  as 
day  after  day  the  bowels  of  these  huge  monsters 
of  the  deep  disgorged  arms  and  stores  and 
camp  equipage  and  portable  houses,  sufficient 
for  an  army,  they  put  spurs  to  their  beasts,  with 
a  "  Caramba,  tan  pendagos "  (great  heavens, 
what  fools),  "  they  come  here  as  though  to 
stay ;  why,  we  must  not  permit  it."  So  Pico, 
and  Manuel  Castro,  and  one  or  two  others, 
headed  them  to  drive  out  these  intruders ;  but 
the  engagements  at  San  Miguel,  and  Salinas, 
and  San  Jose,  taught  them  a  lesson  they  long 
remembered,  and  the  war,  of  short  duration,  was 
soon  virtually  ended  in  California ;  outbreaks 


would  occasionally  take  place,  but  they  were 
soon  quelled.  These  Yankees  were  pig-headed, 
they  would  stay ;  and,  worse  than  all,  would  not 
conform  to  the  beautiful  and  necessary  "  Cosas 
de  paies  ;"  no,  heaven  help  them,  they  would  la 
bor  in  the  hour  for  the  siesta,  and  disturb  those, 
who  wished  to  sleep,  by  noisy  hammer  and  saw. 
The  "  feastas,"  also,  were  violated ;  why,  even 
the  "  weaning  "  of  the  holy  and  revered  "  San 
Grijalva  "  was  treated  as  an  ordinary  day  by 
the  "  Diabolos."  They  also  interfered  with  the 
sacred  law ;  no  more  could  the  alcalde,  with  a 
touching  simplicity,  decide  in  favor  of  the  long 
est  purse,  or  the  nearest  of  his  kin.  No  ;  they 
must  have  all  the  complexity  of  Chitty  and 
Blacksfone,  and  a  jury,  and  drive  one  crazy 
with '  their  interminable  arguments ;  'twas  ab 
surd  !  The  Yankees,  however,  had  a  strange 
power  of  persuasion,  and  generally  managed  to 
have  their  own  way  in  these  matters. 

The  change  was  now  a  perceptible  one. 
Houses,  of  a  new  style,  were  going  up  in  all 
directions  ;  a  wharf,  for  boats,  was  in  progress  of 
erection  at  Clark's  Point ;  a  newspaper,  about 
eighteen  inches  square,  had  appeared,  called, 
very  appropriately,  the  "  California  Star."  It 
was  printed  from  a  font  of  type  found  at  the 
mission,  and  used  for  age,  to  give  to  the  world 
manifestos  of  sapient  "Jef  de  Politicos,"  or, 
gallant  "  Commandantes."  The  editor  was  a 
seceder  from  the  Mormons.  Shops  were  be 
ginning  to  appear,  where  everything,  from  a  Cal 
ifornia  "  lariet "  to  a  Yankee  washing-machine, 
might  be  procured.  A  ten-pin  alley  had  sprung 
up,  though  where  the  material  came  from,  was  a 
mystery  to  all.  Ships  were  moored  in  the  bay  ; 
business  was  quite  brisk. 

The  star  is  rising,  but  slowly;  the  new  era 
has  commenced,  but  awaits  future  events. 

Eureka  !  Gold !  pure  virgin  gold  is  discov 
ered  ;  and  like  a  spectacle,  when  the  fairy  queen 
waves  her  wand,  the  scene  changes. 

0,  Gold !  potent  enchantress,  why  are  thy 
praises  not  sung  ?  Art,  science,  woman,  wine, 
each  have  received  the  praise  of  bards ;  while 
thou,  the  mistress  of  all,  who  founds  an  empire, 
or  destroys  a  nation,  who  art  sought  by  all,  thou 
art  reviled. 

Gold  is  found  in  California ;  from  clime  to 
clime  flies  the  news.  From  distant  lands  come 
those  white-winged  emissaries  of  commerce, 
laden  with  anxious  men,  and  the  treasures  of 
the  globe,  to  exchange  for  the  yellow  ore.  Each 
land  sends  her  choicest  fabrics,  and  her  noblest 


94 


REMINISCENCES  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


sons.  The  village  has  become  a  city ;  the  coun 
try,  as  yet  known  only  by  a  few  adventurers, 
teems  with  the  population  of  the  universe ;  this 
new  Exodus.  The  star  has  reached  its  zenith. 

We  have  glanced  at  "  Yerbabuena"  in  1846; 
let  us  look  at  it  after  eight  years.  As  one  nears 
the  coast,  a  bright  light  from  the  "  Farrallones," 
a  group  of  barren  islands  off  the  harbor,  attracts 
his  eye,  first  proof  of  the  mighty  change.  It 
stands  on  these  bleak  rocks  as  a  herald  to  pro 
claim  the  new  era.  Entering  the  straits,  called 
the  "  Golden  Gate/'  we  see  perched  on  the  bold, 
precipitous  rocks,  where  stood  the  old  "Pre 
sidio,"  a  fortress,  bristling  with  guns,  and  over 
its  battlements  waves  "  the  banner  of  stars." 
A  pilot  boat  dashes  alongside  and  delivers  her 
welcome  freight.  As  we  pass  up  the  beautiful 
bay,  dotted  with  green  islands,  and  stretching 
far  up  into  the  heart  of  the  country,  we  see  many 
changes  ;  steamers  are  passing  us,  puffing  away 
towards  the  rivers  San  Joaquin  and  Sacramento; 
the  bay  is  filled  with  shipping ;  for  miles  it  seems 
a  dense  forest  of  masts.  At  last,  the  town  is 
before  us ;  have  we,  like  Rip  Van  Winkle,  slum 
bered  for  a  century,  or  has  this  fair  city,  a  work 
of  magic,  sprung  up  in  a  single  night  ?  Where 
we  but  yesterday  left  a  hamlet,  we  find  a  city 
that  would  seem  the  growth  of  years.  We 
have  lost  our  sense  of  locality ;  where  now  is 
Clark's  Point,  with  its  rugged  bluff  ?  Where  it 
should  be,  is  a  plain  covered  with  blocks  of 
warehouses ;  the  little  boat  wharf  has  gone,  but 
in  its  place  are  countless  piers,  stretching  out 
into  the  bay,  lined  with  ships  and  covered  with 
merchandise.  The  "Plaza,"  with  its  adobe 
custom-house,  is  a  fine  square,  surrounded  by 
stone,  and  brick  edifices  that  would  do  honor  to 
New  York ;  the  streets  are  laid  out  handsomely 
and  planked  ;  the  old  ox-cart  has  'given  place  to 
the  omnibus  and  stage-coach,  though  the  ruts  of 
the  first  are  scarcely  obliterated.  Hotels  that 
rival  our  Revere  or  Astor,  stand  where  we  left 
the  little  "  pulperias."  The  bay  has  had  to  re 
cede  before  street  after  street,  and  still  they  go 
out;  where  our  boats  had  quietly  swung  at  their 
anchors,  are  costly  blocks,  banking  houses  and 
dwellings. 

More  than  thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  eight 
daily  and  four  weekly  papers,  three  theatres,  and 
sixteen  churches,  give  evidence  of  the  state  of 
prosperity.  And  this  in  eight  years.  But  this 
work  b|is  not  been  done  without  obstacles. 


Three  times  has  the  Fire  King  swept  over  the 
city,  leaving  desolation  behind ;  but  nothing  can 
affect  its  growth  and  progress.  Like  the  Phoe 
nix,  fit  emblem,  it  arises  from  the  ashes  rejuve 
nated.  Floods  come,  but  their  hearts  are  stout, 
and  they  have  plenty  of  boats ;  so  they  e'en  live 
in  the  second  story  till  the  first  is  dry  again. 
Like  Mr.  Tapley,  they  "thrive  under  adver 
sity,"  and  are  not  to  be  turned  aside  by  mere 
trifles. 

Society,  also,  has  kept  pace  with  all  else.  In 
stead  of  the  rough  "  vaquero,"  or  bare-footed 
"  doncella,"  we  find  our  own  fair  country-women 
aiding  to  soften  and  civilize  the  land  and  people, 
and  much  have  they  done,  and  a  great'  deal 
more  will  they  yet  effect  by  their  presence. 
Husbands  have  now  their  wives  to  make  home 
not  merely  one  in  name,  lovers  have  found  means 
to  bring  out  their  adored  ones,  sisters  join  broth 
ers,  and  we  find  a  home  circle.  Churches  have 
been  reared,  and  societies,as  numerous  and  more 
zealous  than  at  home,  are  brought  together.  A 
worthy  shepherd,  leaving  his  beloved  flock  to 
mourn  his  loss,  comes  out  to  establish  Sabbath 
schools,  the  great  object  of  his  life,  and  succeed 
ing  far  beyond  his  most  sanguine  hopes,  returns, 
alas !  to  die.  Illness  contracted  on  the  Isthmus 
hastens  a  chronic  complaint,  and  the  faithful  ser 
vant,  with  the  prayers  of  thousands,  lays  down 
his  cross,  to  find  his  reward  in  another  world. 

The  city,  like  the  country,  is  cosmopolitan. 
The  Frenchman  cannot  work  to  advantage  in 
the  mines,  so  he  opens  a  "  cafe  "  in  the  city, 
while  his  wife  has  a  "lansquenet"  table,  to  re 
lieve  any  whose  pockets  are  plethoric ;  or,  if  he 
has  no  capital,  he  invests  half  a  dollar  in  a  brush 
and  bottle  of  blacking,  and  with  a  stand  for  the 
foot,  cleans  your  boots  on  the  "  plaza,"  as  you 
would  have  it  done  on  the  "  boulevard."  The 
Chinese,  exclusive,  and  shut  off  from  the  world, 
here  is  changed ;  rolling  up  his  tail  under  a 
hat,  he  takes  a  reef  in  his  trowsers,  and  goes  in 
for  the  laundry  business,  having  a  peculiar  fac 
ulty  for  changing  your  linen  shirts  into  cotton 
ones.  Swiss,  Dutch,  Greek,  and  Russian,  all, 
are  here  at  home ;  gold  has  levelled  all  distinc 
tions  and  barriers.  The  old  mission  church  is 
now  a  store,  and  where  the  devout  Mexican 
bowed  to  the  shrine  of  the  blessed  Virgin,  the 
puritanical  Yankee,  abjuring  all  idolatry,  wor 
ships  the  almighty  dollar. 


THE    BROKEN    EAR-RING. 


BY  MRS.   CAROLINE  ORNE. 


"  I  AM  glad  you've  called,  for  I  have-  some 
thing  I  wish  to  show  you,"  said  Hester  Har- 
court  to  her  friend,  Isabel  Leeds,  who  had  run 
in  for  a  few  minutes,  in  a  neighborly  way. 

"  What  is  it  V 

"  Go  with  me  to  my  dressing-room,  and  you 
shall  see." 

Having  entered  the  dressing-room,  Hester 
handed  Isabel  a  pair  of  diamond  ear-rings. 

"  Why,  Hester,"  said  Isabel,  with  a  look  and 
accent  of  surprise,  "  these  are  as  handsome  as 
Mrs.  Pendletou's,  and  she  gave  three  hundred 
dollars  for  hers." 

"And  I  gave  three  hundred  for  mine.  They 
are  much  handsomer  than  Mrs.  Pendleton's,  I 
think.  Let  me  show  you  how  well  they  become 
me." 

Having  placed  them  in  her  ears,  she  turned 
from  the  mirror  to  Isabel. 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  Don't  they  suit  my 
style  1" 

"  Exactly,"  was  Isabel's  reply.  "  I  didn't 
think  that  the  effect  would  be  so  brilliant.  I  be 
lieve  diamonds  never  appear  so  splendid  as  when 
in  contrast  with  black  hair,  dark,  lustrous  eyes, 
and  cheeks— as  the  story-writers  say — like  the 
heart  of  a  red  rose.  For  all  that,  Hester,  I 
shouldn't  care  to  lay  out  three  hundred  dollars 
for  a  pair  of  ear-rings." 


"I  am  as  well  able  to  wear  three  hundred-dol 
lar  ear-rings  as  Mrs.  Pendleton.  And  you  wear 
embroidery  of  the  most  expensive  kind.  In 
that,  you  are  more  extravagant  than  I  am.  I 
don't  think  of  wearing  French  embroidery,  ex 
cept  on  particular  occasions." 

"  I  never  wear  it  on  any  occasion.  I  employ 
a  young  girl,  who  supports  herself  and  her  little 
sister  by  doing  fine  needle-work." 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  imitation  French  em 
broidery  any  more  than  imitation  diamonds." 

Hester  was  a  little  excited,  and  hastily  remov 
ing  one  of  the  ear-rings  from  her  ear,  it  caught 
in  one  of  her  curls,  and  became  so  entangled  as 
to  break  the  ring. 

"  How  unlucky !"  said  she.  "  I  must  send 
and  get  it  mended  at  once,  for  I  wouldn't,  on 
any  account,  miss  wearing  them  to  Mrs.  Bur- 
ford's  party  this  evening." 

She  rang  the  bell,  which  was  promptly  an 
swered  by  a  little  girl  of  nine  or  ten  years  old. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Wall  Street  is  ?"  said 
Hester. 

"  I  was  there  once,  but  am  not  certain  that  I 
can  find  the  way." 

"  If  I  direct  you  which  way  to  go,  you  can 
find  it,  stupid  as  you  are,  I  should  think*" 

"  Perhaps  I  can — I  will  try  ;  but  I've  been  in 
the  city  so  short  a  time." 


96 


THE  BROKEN  EAR  RING. 


"  Hadn't  you  better  go  yourself,  Hester  ?"  Is 
abel  ventured  to  say.  "As  the  child  may  lose 
her  way,  I  shouldn't  think  it  prudent  to  entrust 
her  with  anything  so  valuable." 

"  Why,  it  is  six  o'clock  now,  and  I've  not  yet 
concluded  what  dress  to  wear  this  evening." 

"  Let  me  go,  then  ;  I  should  like  the  walk." 

"  To  confess  the  truth,  I  want  you  to  assist 
me  about  a  few  little  things  which  I  have  ne 
glected  to  attend  to,  which  you  can  do  as  well  as 
not,  as  you've  taken  it  into  your  head  not  to  at 
tend  the  party<o-night.  Come  this  way,  Floy, 
and  mind  what  I  say  to  you." 

The  child  timidly  advanced  to  the  table  where 
Hester  stood. 

"  Do  you  see  this  ?"  said  she,  holding  up  the 
diamond  ear-ring. 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  It  is  broken,  as  you  see,  and  I  wish  to  have 
it  mended." 

She  then  gave  her  what  she  considered  the 
necessary  directions  to  enable  her  to  find  the 
shop  where  she  was  to  get  it  done.  "  It  is  worth 
a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,"  Hester  went  on  to 
say,  "  and  if  you  lose  it,  you'll  wish  yourself 
back  to  the  almshouse  again,  where  I  took  you 
from,  out  of  pity." 

"  If  I  lose  it,  shall  you  put  me  in  the  dark 
closet,  where  the  great  chest  is,  with  the  dead 
man's  bones  in  it  ?"  asked  the  child,  turning 
pale. 

"  Yes,  and  shall  keep  you  there  all  night." 

"  Please,  Miss  Hester,  don't  make  me  carry  it 
then  ;"  and  tears  started  in  the  poor  child's  eyes. 

"  But  I  shall  make  you ;  and  if  you  lose  it,  it 
will  be  because  you  are  careless.  Remember 
you  are  to  wait  till  it's  done.  It  wont  take  a 
great  while  to  do  it,  and  you  must  be  back  by 
seven  o'clock,  or  a  quarter  after." 

"  Can  she  read  writing  ?"  Isabel  inquired  of 
Hester. 

"  I  don't  know — can  you,  Floy  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Stop  one  minute,  then,"  said  Isabel ;  and 
taking  a  pencil  from  her  pocket,  she  wrote  on  a 
slip  of  paper  the  directions  Hester  had  given,  in 
a  clear,  legible  hand. 

The  child's  face  brightened  as  she  looked  at 
what  Isabel  had  written,  for  she  felt  sure  that  it 
would  enable  her  to  find  the  way. 

"  What  does  she  mean  about  the  dark  closet 
and  the»chcst  ?"  said  Isabel,  as  soon  as  she  was 
gone. 

"La,  Isabel,"  said  Hester,   laughing,  "you 


don't  suppose  I  keep  a  chest  of  bones,  do  you  ? 
I  am  not  studying  anatomy." 

"No,  but  why  should  the  child  think  of  such 
a  thing  1" 

"  Why,  I  told  her  about  the  closet  and  chest 
of  bones  just  to  frighten  her.  There  must  be 
something  to  keep  her  in  awe,  or  I  shall  lose  all 
control  over  her." 

"  I  should  think  it  wrong  to  endeavor  to  ex 
cite  a  child's  fears  in  that  way.  What  is  her 
name  7" 

"  Florence  Lisle." 

"A  pretty  name — don't  you  think  so ?" 

"  Yes,  pretty  enough ;  but  when  associated 
with  the  idea  of  an  almshouse  pauper,  it  sounds 
to  me  rather  ludicrous." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  respecting  her  pa 
rents  ?"  asked  Isabel. 

"  No,  I  didn't  trouble  myself  about  that." 

"  She  has  a  sweet  face,  though  there  is  a 
mournful  expression  in  her  large,  dark  eyes, 
which  made  me  feel  sad.  There  has  been  a 
time,  I  cannot  doubt,  when  she  was  surrounded 
by  comfort  and  plenty.  Had  she  always  been 
poor  and  friendless,  so  dark  a  shade  of  sorrow 
could  not  rest  on  her  fair,  young  brow.  It  is  by 
those  who  have  seen  better  days  that  the  misery, 
occasioned  by  want  and  its  attendant  evils,  is 
the  most  keenly  felt.  The  poor  little  wretch, 
who  has  never  known  anything  but  poverty  and 
unkind  treatment,  possesses  in  most  instances  a 
facility,  truly  marvellous,  in  throwing  all  its 
griefs  to  the  winds,  whenever  its  physical  wants 
are  temporarily  supplied,  and  it  can  get  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  heavy  hand,  so  ready  to  fall  on 
its  luckless  head." 

"  Well,  Isabel,  leave  the  subject  of  beggars 
and  paupers  to  discuss  some  other  time,  and 
help  me  to  decide  what  to  wear  this  evening.  If 
you  will,  I  will  promise  to  use  all  my  influence 
in  getting  you  appointed  lady-principal  of  some 
orphan  asylum.  Here  are  three  such  lovely 
dresses,  I  don't  know  which  to  choose.  At  any 
rate,  I  want  to  wear  the  one  which  will  best  be 
come  me,  for  I  understand  that  there  is  a  gentle 
man  going  to  be  present  who  has  been  living  in 
China  several  years,  who  is  as  rich  as  a  Jew,  and 
handsome  as  an  Adonis." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?" 

"I  couldn't  ascertain.  Mrs.  Pendleton,  who 
mentioned  him  to  me,  had  forgotten." 

While  Hester  and  Isabel  were  examining  the 
the  dresses,  Florence,  with  a  tiny  box  clasped 
tightly  in  her  hand,  was  walking  with  all  possi- 


THE  BROKEN  EAR-RING. 


97 


ble  speed  towards  the  shop  where  she  was  to  get 
the  ear-ring  mended.  When  arrived,  as  she  en 
tered,  a  man  decently  dressed,  who  was  walking 
leisurely  by,  stopped  and  looked  in  at  the  door. 
Florence^  having  raised  the  lid  of  the  box,  hand 
ed  it  to  a  man  behind  the  counter,  and  asked 
him  if  he  could  mend  the  ear-ring.  He  could 
mend  it,  he  said,  and  she  told  him  that  she  was 
to  wait  till  it  was  ready. 

"  It  wont  take  long  to  do  it,"  he  said,  taking 
the  ear-ring  from  the  box,  and  examining  it. 
He  then  opened  a  door,  communicating  with  a 
back  apartment,  and  gave  directions  for  it  to  be 
done  without  delay. 

Though  she  was  not  detained  more  than  half 
an  hour  in  the  jeweller's  shop,  Florence,  when 
she  commenced  returning,  found  her  progress 
retarded  by  the  number  of  people  she  met  on  the 
sidewalk,  there  having  been  either  a  lecture  or  a 
concert  near  by.  She  had  not  gone  far,  before 
she  was  jostled  so  rudely  by  one  among  a  num 
ber  of  men  and  boys,  who  suddenly  turned  a 
corner,  that  she  was  thrown  down.  In  her  at 
tempt  to  save  herself  from  falling,  the  box,  con 
taining  the  diamond  ear-ring,  escaped  from  her 
hand,  though  almost  at  the  same  instant,  she  re 
gained  possession  of  it.  The  man  who  had 
been  the  means  of  her  fall,  instead  of  hurrying 
on  with  the  crowd,  had  remained  behind,  and 
taking  hold  of  her  arm,  assisted  her  to  rise  to 
her  feet. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  my  little  girl,"  said  he. 

" Not  any,  thank  you,  sir,"  she  replied;  and 
raising  her  eyes  to  his  face,  as  she  spoke,  she 
recognized  him  as  the  same  man  she  saw  stand 
ing  at  the  door  of  the  jeweller's  shop,  shortly 
after  her  entrance. 

She,  then,  thought  his  face  particularly  repul 
sive,  and  now,  though  he  spoke  softly,  and  ap 
peared  kind,  she  did  not  like  his  looks,  and 
wished,  within  herself,  that  he  would  not  keep  so 
closely  by  her  side,  and  more  particularly,  that 
he  would  let  go  her  hand,  which  he  kept  firmly 
clasped  in  his,  lest,  as  he  said,  she  should  be 
again  thrown  down. 

**  How  far  have  you  to  go  *?"  said  he,  after  they 
had  proceeded  a  short  distance. 

"A  good  ways  yet,"  she  replied  ;  and  thank 
ing  him  for  his  kindness,  she  told  him  she  did 
not  wish  to  trouble  him  to  go  any  further. 

"  0,  it  is  no  trouble — none  at  all ;  and  if  I 
leave  you,  and  you  should  be  thrown  down 
again,  you  may  get  hurt,  and  lose  that  little  box 
yon  hold  so  tight  in  your  hand.  You  haven't 


told  me  what  street  you  wish  to  go  to— is  it 
Pearl  Street  1" 

"  No,  sir— Bleeker  Street." 

"  Then  we  had  better  turn  down  this  alley. 
The  distance  will  be  much  shorter." 

"  Miss  Harcourt  told  me  that  I  must  go  this 
way." 

At  this  moment  the  clock  of  a  church  hard 
by  commenced  striking  seven,  and  recollecting 
that  Miss  Harcourt  told  her  she  must  be  back  at 
seven,  or  a  quarter  past,  and  recalling  to  mind 
the  threatened  penalty,  should  she  fail  to  be 
there  at  the  time,  she  inquired  of  the  man  how 
long  it  would  take  to  reach  Bleeker  Street. 

"  That,"  he  replied,  "  depends  on  which  way 
you  go." 

"  Will  it  take  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
the  way  we  are  going  now?"  said  she. 

He  saw  by  the  earnest  way.  in  which  she  made 
the  inquiry,  that  she  was  anxious  to  arrive  with 
in  the  time  she  had  specified,  and  shaped  his 
answer  accordingly. 

"Yes,"  said  he;  "twice  that  time;  but  we 
can  be  there  in  less  than  ten  minutes  if  we  turn 
down  the  alley  I  spoke  to  you  about." 

She  hesitated  a  minute,  and  then  said  : 

"  I  believe  I  had  better  go  that  way,  then."     • 

Without  giving  her  time  to  change  her  mind, 
he  turned,  still  holding  her  by  the  hand,  and 
soon  they  were  hurrying  through  the  narrow 
alley,  which  Florence  expected  would  so  materi 
ally  shorten  the  distance.  It  terminated  in  a 
respectable  looking  .street,  but  her  conductor 
soon  turned  from  this  into  another.  Several 
more  turns  were  made,  when  Florence,  with  a 
feeling  of  alarm,  found  they  were  in  a  dirty- 
looking  street,  where  the  buildings  were  mean 
and  dilapidated.  She  thought  to  herself  how 
strange  it  was,  that  the  handsome  street  where 
Miss  Harcourt  lived,  should  be  near  such  a  vile, 
wretched-looking  place. 

"Are  we  almost  there  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  we  shall  soon  be  there  jaow,"  was  his 
answer,  and  looking  round  to  make  himself  sure 
that  he  was  not  observed,  he  unlocked  the  door 
of  an  old  building,  which  he  quickly  entered, 
drawing  Florence  in  with  him.  All  this  was 
done  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly,  that  it  was 
hardly  realized  by  her,  till  she  saw  the  man  lock 
the  door  inside,  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket. 

"  There,  sit  down  an,d  rest  yourself,"  said  he, 
"  and  then  you'll  be  better  able  to  find  that  fine 
street,  where  you  live." 

"  I  am  n.ot  tired.    Please  let  me  go,  now. 


THE  BROKEN  EAR  RING. 


Miss  Harcoart  said  I  mast  be  back  by  a  quarter 
past  seven,  and  if  I  don't  get  there  at  the  time, 
she'll  punish  me." 

"  Well,  it's  more'n  half  past  seven  now,  and 
as  it  is  too  late  to  escape  the  beating  the  fine 
lady  will  give  you,  you  may  as  well  be  quiet, 
and  stay  here  a  while  longer.  I've  got  to  go 
away  now,  and  while  I'm  gone,  you  may  go  in 
back  here,  and  stay  with  my  sister." 

He  opened  a  door,  and  pushed  her  into  a  small 
back  room.* 

"iNow,"  said  he,  "I'll  take  charge  of  that  lit 
tle  box  you  hold  on  to  so  tight,  and  if  you're 
hungry,  the  woman  will  give  you  something  to 
eat." 

"  0,  don't  take  the  box,  sir !"  said  she,  "  for  I 
mustn't  stay  any  longer.  Miss  Harcourt  is  go 
ing  to  a  party  to-night,  and  must  have  the  ear* 
ring  to  wear." 

"  There's  no  hurry  about  her  having  it ;  and 
in  my  opinion,  it  will  be  safer  in  my  keeping 
than  yours.  Give  it  to  me,  and  save  your  fin 
gers  a  wrenching !" 

"  I  can*t  let  you  have  it,  sir — I  can't,  certain. 
It  is  a  diamond  ear-ring,  and  is  worth  a  hundred 
and  fifcy  dollars.  Miss  Harcourt  told  me  it 
was." 

"  That's  more  than  I  expected  'twas  worth. 
Corr.e,  no  more  fooling.  I  mean  what  I  say. 
Give  it  to  me." 

This  was  said  with  a  look  so  stern,  and  in  a 
voice  of  so  much  anger,  that  Florence,  not  dar 
ing  to  refuse  any  longer,  gave  him  the  box. 

"  There,  that's  right,"  said-  he.  "  That's  be- 
havin'  like  a  woman.  I'm  sorry  that  necessity 
drives  Hie  to  this,  for  your  sake,  for  you've  as 
pretty  and  innocent  a  looking  foice  as  I've  seen 
this  many  a  day.  As  for  the  lady,  who's  count 
ing  on  dazzling  some  poor  fool's  eyes,  I  shall  be 
glad  to  have  her  disappointed." 

He  then  took  the  woman  aside,  who  since  their 
entrance  had  been  busy  about  some  household 
affair,  and  dfd  not  appear  to  pay  much  attention 
to  them,  and  having  interchanged  a  few  words 
v/ith  her,  so  low  as  not  to  be  heard  by  Florence, 
he  left  the  house.  When  Florence  found  that  he 
had  gone,  taking  the  costly  ear-ring  with  him, 
unable  to  longer  control  her  emotion,  she  burst 
into 'tears. 

"  Come,  child,  there's  no  use  in  crying,"  said 
the  woman.  "  As  soon  as  it  is  fairly  dark,  you 
shall  go  back  to  where  you  belong." 

"I  don't  dare  to  go  without  the  ear-ring. 
Wont  the  man  bring  it  back  bv-and-by,  and  let 
me  have  it  ?" 


"No,  child— there's  no  use  in  deceiving  you, 
You'll  never  see  it-  again — he  has  a  use  of  his 
own  for  it/' 

.  "  What  shall  I  do  ?"  said  Florence.    "  I  can't 
go  back  to  Miss  Harcourt  without  it."-, 

"  She'll  beat  you,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  she  will ;  but  I  had  rather  she 
would  than  to  keep  me  in  the  closet  all  night 
with  the  dead  man's  bones ;"  and  as  she  spoke 
a  shudder  crept  over  her,  and  her  eyes  dilated 
with  fear. 

"  Well,  I'm  poor,  and  have  done  things  which 
I  had  better  not  have  done,  but  I've  more  feeling 
than  to  do  such  a  wicked  thing  as  that.  If  you 
don't  dare  to  go  back,  you're  welcorge  to  stay 
here.  You  shall  fare  as  well  as  my  brother  and 
I  do." 

Florence  reflected  a  while,  and  then  said : 

"  I  thank  you,  but  I  mustn't  stay." 

"  You'd  rather  go  and  be  shut  up  in  the  closet 
you  speak  of.  Well,  as  I  told  you,  as  soon  as  it 
is  dark,  I'll  show  you  the  way.  My  brother  told 
me  I  could,  if  you  wasn't  content  to  stay." 

"As  soon  as  you  are  ready,  I  should  like  tc 
go,"  said  Florence. 

Florence  had  decided  in  her  own  mind  not  to 
return  to  Miss  Harcourt's,  though  she  did  not 
mention  her  decision  to  the  woman.  She  knew 
that  Isabel  Leeds  lived  in  the  same  street,  and 
the  kindness  and  consideration  she  had  manifest' 
ed  towards  her,  made  her  determine  to  go  to 
her,  and  beg  her  to  let  her  remain  at  least  for 
the  night.  She  had,  for  a  long  time,  been  so  lit* 
tie  used  to'  being  treated  kindly,  that  had  not 
early  moral  culture  taught  her  to  shrink  from 
associating  with  the  vicious,  the  sympathy  mani 
fested  by  the  woman  might  have  tempted  her  to 
remain  where  she  was. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  best  that  you  should  go,"  said 
she,  in  answer  to  the  wish  expressed  by  Flor 
ence.  "  If  I  had  a  daughter  as  pretty  as  you 
are,  I  should  know  that  this  was  no  place  for 
her." 

"  Do  you  remember  ever  being  in  this  part  of 
the  city  before  ?"  said  the  woman,  when  it  had 
got  to  be  fairly  dark. 

"  Never-^-Fve  not  been  in  the  city  long." 

"  Well,  it's  time  to  go  now.  We  must  go  out 
by  the  back  door.  My  brother  locked  the  other 
door  on  the  outside,  when  he  went  away." 

The  night  was  cloudy  and  very  dark,  and  her 
conductor,  holding  her  fast  by  the^and,  led  her 
through  what  appeared  to  her  a  labyrinth  of  lanes 
and  alleys.  The  truth  was,  she  purposely  chose 


THE  BROKEN  EAR-RING, 


a  circuitous  rather  than  a  direct  way.  After  a 
while  they  entered  a  well-lighted  street.  The 
woman  did  not  speak,  but  continued  to  pass 
rapidly  en  through  several  others.  At  last  she 
slackened  .her  pace,  and  asked  Florence  if  she 
knew  where  she  was. 

"  In  Sleeker  Street,  I  beliere,"  was  the  child's 
answer. 

"  Yes,  and  you  can  now  find  the  way." 
"  I  think  I  can." 

"  Good  night,  then,  and  remember  that,  bad 
as  I  am,  I  shouldn't  have  the  heart  to  treat  you 
as  cruelly  as  the  proud  lady  does,  yoji  live 
with." 

Florence  bid  her  good  night  in  return — thank 
ed  her  for  showing  her  the  way,  and  looking 
back,  saw  her  turn  a  corner.  She  then  walked 
slowly  along,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the 
large  and  magnificent  mansion  of  Mr.  Harcourt. 
The  sight  of  it  inspired  her  with  dread,  and 
turning  quickly  back,  she  inquired  of  the  first 
person  she  met  where  Mr.  Leeds  lived.  Fortu 
nately,  he  knaw  how  to  direct  her,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  she  had  reached  the  house.  Isabel 
Leeds,  accompanied  by  an  elderly  gentleman, 
had  just  arrived  from  the  opposite  direction. 
The  strong  light  of  the  lamp  in  front  of  the 
mansion  fell  upon  Florence,  and  Isabel  saw 
and  recognized  her. 

"  "Why  have  you  been  gone  so  long  ?"  said 
she. 

"I  couldn't  come  before.  Miss  Harcourt's 
ear-ring  is  gone !" 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?    How  did  you  lose  it  1" 

"  I  didn't  lose  it — a  man  took  it  away  from 

me." 

"What  man  *" 
"  I  don't  know." 

"  Come,  we  will  go  into  the  house.  This 
should  be  attended  to  at  once." 

"  My  poor  child,"  said  Isabel,  addressing  the 
trembling  Florence,  when  they  had  entered  the 
parlor,  "  come  and  sit  down  by  me,  and  tell  me 
all  about  what  has  happened." 

Florence,  whose  agitation  was  in  a  measure 
soothed  by  the  kindness  of  Isabel,  related  those 
particulars  already  known,  in  a  manner  so  art 
less  and  unhesitating,  that  both  Isabel  and  the 
gentleman  present,  whose  name  was  Kingsley, 
were  perfectly  satisfied  that  what  she  said  was 
tme. 

"I  must  let  Hester  know  the  fate  of  her  ear 
ring,"  said  Isabel,  when  she  had  finished.  "  II 
I  dou't,  as  she  is  waiting  for  Florence  to  return 


he  may  be  too  late  for  the  party.  When  I  part* 
ed  with  her,  half  an  hour  ago,  she  was  talking  of 
sending  to  the  jeweller's  to  inquire  why  Flor 
ence  was  so  long  detained." 

'Are  you  going  to  send  me  ?"  said  Florence, 
ooking  much  alarmed. 

"No,  you  may  remain  here  for  the  present.  I 
will  send  her  a  note." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  note  was  written,  and  on 
ts  way  to  Miss  Harcourt.  Shortly  afterwards, 
Mr.  Kingsley  was  told  that  there  wfs  a  gentle 
man  at  the  door,  who  wished  to  see  him. 

"If  a  friend,  invite  Mm  in,"  said  Isabel,  as 
Mr.  Kingsley  left  the  room. 

He  soon  returned,  accompanied  by  a  gentle 
man,  whom  he  presented  to  Isabel  as  his  friend  j 
Austin  Lisle,  just  arrived  from  China,  where  he 
bad  been  a  resident  for  several  years.  The  mo 
ment  Isabel  had  responded  to  his  salutation, 
Florence  approached  him,  and  in  much  agitation; 
said: 

"  Uncle  Austin,  I  thought  you  were  dead ! 
Mr.  Byles  told  me  you  were." 

"  Why,   this   must  be  my  little  Florence,  I 
parted  with  three  years  ago  !    But  how  came 
you  here  ?    I  expected  you  were  in  the  country. 
Is  your  mother  here  ?" 
"Mother  is  dead." 
"  Dead  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir — she  died  more  than  a  year  ago." 
"  This  is  sad  news,  which  I  was  not  prepared 
to  hear.    Where  have  you  been  since  she  died  1" 
"  In  the  almshouse  till  about  six  weeks  ago.'' 
"A  daughter  of  Edward  Lisle  and  Florence 
Linton  been  living  in  the  almshouse !     Why  did 
you  go  there?" 

"  Mr.  Byles  carried  me  there.  Ho  said  that 
all  the  money  you  let  mother  have  was  gone, 
and  that  I  must  be  taken  care  of  by  charity." 

"  The  last  letter  your  mother  sent  me,  and 
which  I  must  have  received  about  the  time  she 
died,  said  that  she  was  amply  provided  for,  for 
at  least  three  years  to  come.  This  Mr.  Byles,  I 
suspect,  is  a  dishonest  man.  He  expected  that 
I  should  remain  abroad  several  years  longer, 
which  tempted  him,  I'm  afraid,  to  pocket  the 
money  which  should  have  been  appropriated  to 
your  maintenance.  You  were  friendless,  and  he 
magined  he  should  escape  detection/' 

At  this  moment  the  door  was  unceremoniously 
opened  by  Hester  Harcourt.  Mr.  Lisle  sat  near 
the  door,  with  his  arm  encircling  the  Waist  of 
Florence,  who  stood  at  his  side.  She  entered 
the  room  in  R  manner  so  sudden  and  impetuous, 


too 


THE  BROKEN  EAR-RING. 


that  she  passed  on  to  the  centre  of  the  apartment, 
without  being  aware  of  their  presence. 

"  I  hope,"  said  she,  addressing  Isabel,  "  that 
you  didn't  expect  me  to  be  imposed  upon  by  .the 
vile  falsehood  so  cunningly  fabricated  by  Floy 
Lisle,  if  you  were.  I  never  liked  the  child  from 
the  first.  She  pretended  to  be  excessively  deli 
cate  and  sensitive,  but  I  always  thought  that  it 
was  all  mere  pretence,  and  now  I  am  certain  it 
was.  Where  is  the  little  thief?  Have  you 
taken  her^mder  your  protection  ?" 

Isabel  had  several  times  during  this  speech 
vainly  attempted  to  interrupt  her,  and  when  she 
found  her  attempts  unheeded,  had  endeavored 
by  expressive  signs  to  make  her  sensible  of  the 
presence  of  a  stranger ;  but  her  mind  was  so 
much  pre-occupied,  and  so  disturbed  by  passion, 
she  was  unable  to  attract  her  attention. 

"  Have  you  taken  her  under  your  protection?" 
she  repeated,  with  increased  vehemence. 

"  Florence  Lisle  is  here,"  said  Isabel ;  "  and 
previous  to  my  sending  you  the  note,  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  let  her  remain  here  till  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  a  personal  interview  with 
you.  Since  then,  she  has  unexpectedly  found  a 
natural  protector,  which  will,  in  part,  preclude 
the  necessity  of  my  interference." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Lisle,  who  rose  and  came 
forward,  leading  Florence  by  the  hand,  "  I  am 
the  child's  uncle,  and  am  both  able  and  willing 
to  take  care  of  her.  I  have  yet  to  learn  in  what 
way  she  has  excited  your  anger,  and  for  what 
reason  you  call  her  by  such  an  opprobrious 
name.  The  child  of  a  mother  so  amiable  and 
so  exemplary  as  hers  was,  cannot  be  guilty  of 
taking  what  does  not  belong  to  her.  Will  you 
have  the  goodness  to  tell  me  what  cause  you 
have  to  accuse  her  ?" 

"  Uncle  Kingsley,"  said  Isabel,  "  you  are  ac 
quainted  with  the  circumstances — will  you  be  so 
kind  as  to  explain  them  to  Mr.  Lisle  1" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Kingsley;  and  as 
briefly  as  possible  he  made  the  necessary  expla 
nation. 


"  I  promised  my  friend,  Mrs.  Burford,  to  at" 
tend  her  party  this  evening,"  said  Mr.  Lisle, 
after  Mr.  Kingsley  had  finished  his  narrative, 
"  but  I  will  send  an  excuse,  and  attend  to  this 
affair  immediately.  The  sooner  the  facts  of  the 
case  are  made  known  to  the  detective  police,  the 
better." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Mr.  Kingsley ;  "  and  if 
you  please,  I  will  go  with  you." 

When  they  were  gone,  Hester  inquired  of  Isa 
bel  who  this  Mr.  Lisle  was. 

"  He  has  recently  arrived  from  China,"  was 
her  answer,  "and  is,  I  presume,  the  gentleman 
you  Expected  to  meet  at  the  party  this  evening, 
on  whom  you  were  somewhat  desirous  to  make 
a  favorable  impression." 

"  And  you  knew  this,  and  yet  permitted  me  to 
say  what  I  did  in  his  presence." 

"  I  did  my  best  to  prevent  you." 

"  I  will  not  dispute  the  point — but,  remember, 
that  we  are  no  longer  friends." 

Without  waiting  for  Isabel  to  reply,  she  left 
the  house,  and  stepping  into  the  carriage  which 
was  in  waiting  at  the  door,  she  Was  soon  on  her 
way  to  Mrs.  Burford's  party. 

By  the  vigilance  of  the  police,  the  man  who 
robbed  Florence  was  arrested  just  as  he  was  en 
tering  the  shop  of  a  pawnbroker,  whose  integ 
rity,  it  was  suspected,  was  not  altogether  unim 
peachable.  The  diamond  ear-ring  was  found  in 
the  man's  possession,  and  quickly  restored  to  its 
owner. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  a  few  months  after 
wards,  when  Isabel  Leeds  became  the  bride  of 
the  wealthy'  Mr.  Lisle,  who  was  in  every  respect 
worthy  of  her  esteem,  that  Miss  Harcourt  re 
gretted  having  treated  the  friendless  Florence 
with  so  little  kindness  and  consideration. 

In  her  uncle's  house,  Florence  found  a  home 
in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  and  when,  at  a 
suitable  age,  she  was  introduced  into  society, 
there  were  few  transcended  her  in  beauty  of  per 
son,  and  none  in  moral  and  mental  culture. 


THE  END 


Photomount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc. 

Makers 

Stockton,  Calif. 
PAT.  JAN.  21,  1908 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


' 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


